no more sorrow
by suteras
Summary: Apparently, awakening has a lot more consequences than Rush bargained for- even when he's supposed to be dead. So when a far more powerful version of Timeshift comes into play, who better to fix this problem than himself? eventual DavidxRush; time-travel
1. brollach

What exactly _can_ be considered _awakening_?

It is _strange_ at first, for why would there be a _need_ to awaken right _after_ the battle in which he had sacrificed himself? What exactly _is_ the point when he has made sure his family and friends are safe? Indeed, he thought that there would merely be _oblivion_ but instead, there is this overwhelming _darkness_, _whispers_ coming to him from all around and he does not know where he is, does not know what he is _doing_ or whether he is even _thinkin_g. The darkness is overwhelming in _nature_ and—how long has he _been_ here? How long has he floated in this space and thought and thought and _thought_ about his actions—for these _whispers_ do not quieten at all; they are accusatory in _nature_ and it is only then (oh, only _then_) that he realizes the _extent_ of how _angry_ they are—and what he is doing here and…

"This is your burden to bear."

The imperious voice does not fail to cut through the rabble of _whispersshoutsSCREAMS_ echoing within his mind and he _thinks_ he turns, thinks that the Conqueror is right there beside him but he is _all around_, _encompassing_ in nature for this space is not the afterlife, is not _anything_ because-!

"You were scared. You did not go through with what you promised."

If he had a face, perchance it will have crumbled from such information, from the blows that come and he _wishes_ he can deny it, but he does not have a tongue nor mouth to speak—

( h_ow ironic. how __**ironic**__. the one __**born**__ to speak with us is __**speechless**__, cannot express ours nor his __**own**__ desires; such a __**disappointment**__—_ )

-At least, he _thinks_ he doesn't but it _hurts_ somehow. It _aches_ within whatever bones he possesses and it _does not stop_ and it is only _then_ that he realizes the _gravity_ of how _pissed_ the remnants must be at him, for his eventual decision and the fate he has _imposed_ upon them for they are perhaps just like _him_, floating in this darkness and unable to move and unable to _express_ but he can _feel_ their emotions now, feels _connected_ with them in more ways than one and he reflects such disappointment, the _anger_ within them because…

"You chose not to join me; you chose to go on your own path. Look what that has done to both you and your kin."

He imagines that he blinks once, to the everlasting darkness above and below and beside him and he registers the pain once more,_ piercing_ in nature but the sensations flit in and out, as if his thoughts are merely _scattered_ and he is not palpable enough for it to attack him. His mind is adrift and—

_How long have I been here?_

One…

Two…

Three…

"How many years did you intend for us to be kept within this prison?"

Four…

A _whisper_ then; he wonders how long it has taken for him to even string a _thought_ together, much less speak aloud the sentence, but even then, he is not sure whether the others can hear—( _but of __**course**__ we can; connected through and in and between your soul; the product of our __**desire**__ ultimately __**denying**__ it's fate; and we are so angry, so ANGRY and VENGEFUL how you FAIL in this simple TASK-!_ )—a wince, but can he really call even that action real?

Five…

Six…

"I… I meant to…"

His voice scatters.

"Whatever you meant, you had not meant to seal. You meant to _destroy_. Whatever the case, you have **betrayed** your _duty_."

Seven…

The Conqueror is frank in his explanation, but Rush finds he cannot concentrate. The emotions and (**ANGERANGERANGER**) [_hisduty_] are both one in the same and he has failed_ them_; everything filters through his mind and he can look at it all, piece by _piece_ and there are so _many_, so many _thoughts and rage and RAGE_ and-!

_Eight_.

"Awaken."

And he wakes _gasping_.

A/N: first fanfiction in a very very long while u_u and on a new account too lkasjf either way, i'll be uploading the next few chapters pretty soon. i hope y'all enjoy reading!


	2. ceann

"Rush! Mr. David! Come quick—the Tracking Remnant is…!"

The call of Irina's voice piques the interest of both the aforementioned characters and hastily they come from their discussion on the far side of the throne room, immediately followed by Athlum's four generals. So soon after coming back from Koenigsdorf, Rush is surprised that there's _already_ activity on the tracker considering the magnitude of the remnant that Duke Hermeien had under his power. Still, he supposes he shouldn't be _too_ shocked—this is the _Conqueror_ after all and he seems to have _many_ tricks up his sleeves.

Gathering now along with the other's around the blurry map presented by the Tracking Remnant, he does not even have to _squint_ to see what exactly had Irina looking down in obvious worry.

"Why… that's _impossible_. How could there _be_ so many Remnants in one place…?" The Marquis remarks with clear shock. Indeed, upon the image before them, there seems to be a _heaving_ mass of lights; made up of many colours, the sparks seem to clash and _collide_ with one another in their effort to stay in one small spot and out of the corner of Rush's eyes, he sees Torgal shake his head in confusion.

"It seems as if the Remnants are connected to one place. Or… perhaps one person." The Sovani says, and he shifts in discomfort.

"It is far too close to Elysion to be comfortable." Pagus comments. "However, it does not seem to be moving towards them. It is possible it is a neutral force, though I cannot say for sure."

For whatever reason, Rush felt oddly… _panicked_. As soon as he had set eyes on the phenomenon, _anxiety_ readily grips his heart yet he dismisses it with ease. After all, the _others_ must be feeling the same thing, _surely_. The thought of something—or some_one_—wielding _that_ many Remnants could not be good news. There is a tingle on the back of his neck, but he ignores it in favour of looking to David, whose own brows are pulled together in consternation. "Y'think it's the Conqueror?" He asks, and subsequently attempts to wrack his brain for _any_ explanation towards this.

"This could be a far bigger problem than the Remnant we encountered at Koenigsdorf if the origin of these Remnants is indeed to be considered an enemy." David's voice is grim, and Rush feels himself sobering up. This _spooked_ him, but he's sure it stresses the other out far more than he can even think of. "If this is the work of the Conqueror… then I fear we have quite a battle on our hands." He sounds weary and _grave_ and Rush certainly doesn't like seeing that on _anyone_.

A grin crossing light features, the young Sykes slings an arm around the Marquis, pulling him close as he claps him on the chest with his other hand. "Lighten up, Dave! I'm sure it'll be fine—'sides, if we beat all those guys around Koenigsdorf and Hermeien, we can handle this new guy alright!"

The reaction isn't one he expects. Almost immediately, the Marquis shrugs off Rush's arm and steps back as if to distance himself. "We… _I_ have still failed at that battle. The Conqueror…" He looks away.

"Mr. David!" And now Irina is there, approaching with her hands held to her chest, _almost_ reaching for the blond but she seems to restrain herself from comforting him. "Please… don't give up. Not now! Not after how long we've fought." She turns to the Tracking Remnant, and Rush wonders at the odd deflation in his chest. "Whatever this gathering of Remnants is… we have to find out. The Conqueror will be sure to go after it next once he's done with his goals in Darken Forest! We have to beat him!" When the Marquis doesn't answer, dark, _pleading_ hues turn to him once more. "Mr. David…"

Finally, _finally_ there is a light shown within deep hazels. As if coming back to life, David smiles softly at the youngest Sykes, and Rush feels that dark _gnawing_ feeling in his gut grow a little stronger now. Still, he's happy that the Marquis is out of his stump, and it seems as if they finally have _some_ game plan.

"You are right, Irina." The Marquis closes his eyes as if to compose himself, and when he opens them, there is _fire_ within them. "I apologize. You have a sound plan." Straightening, he glances towards his generals and they stand immediately at attention. "You are all to prepare to head out again! Wherever these Remnants are going, we are to intercept them as soon as possible."

At once, the four Generals clap their fists to their hearts. "Yes, My Lord!"

Crossing his arms, Rush is unaware wholly of the sour expression he now has on. Glancing to the side, he's eager to get rid of this gnawing feeling at the pit of his stomach; heck, he's not even sure where exactly it came from! Just seeing David and Irina like that…

Why is he feeling this way?

Just when he thought that things would carry on just like _that_, David approaches him with a neutral expression upon tan features. A hand rises to rest upon Rush's shoulder, and there's an odd_ relief_ spreading within him at the sight of a smile crossing the Marquis' features. "Thank you, Rush."

And Rush doesn't entirely care what the other is thanking him _for_ exactly, but he's grinning _back_ and reaching up to cover the other's hand with his own upon his shoulder.

"No problem, Dave!"

* * *

><p>From the moment he wakes, Rush finds he is strangely <em>tired<em>.

It is not because of any lack of sleep, no—he's sure he fell to slumber surprisingly _early_ the night before since David had ordered them all to get a good rest so that they can head out early in the morning. Which is… _unlike_ him. Normally, they set out as soon as, but assurance from Marina that the crowd of Remnants does not seem to be moving set David on this decision. Even so, Rush felt like he got up earlier than the others, and _that_ was saying something. Normally, _he_ was the one to sleep in but as soon as he opens his eyes, he finds he cannot will himself back to sleep.

He gets dressed fast, and takes one look outside the window. Not exactly light _just_ yet, which meant he still had some time to sort out these strange feelings still lurking in his chest. He'd thought they'd go away by now yet they still _persisted_, and perhaps are even _stronger_ than before. He isn't exactly sure of the origin but…

Quietly, he moves from his room to the end of the hall, passing outside and through the gardens and back into the throne room. The doors were closed at this hour, but he easily slips in, moving almost _ghost-like_ towards the Tracking Remnant. As soon as it is activated, he rests his hands upon the edges, staring intently at the large, multi-coloured dot upon the map. Strange. It doesn't seem to have moved from it's last known location, but he knows that he probably shouldn't doubt his mother on her words.

Yet even as he stares more at it, the more _urgency_ he felt, as if he has to go there straight away but there also is a _fear_ lingering in him, fear that if he went there, then things wouldn't go as smoothly as he hopes.

"Hn-!"

A grunt is _forced_ out of him suddenly and he gasps aloud, eyes widening as his knees weaken and he feels himself _stumble _against the Tracking Remnant, as if the energy had been sapped from him so _suddenly_ and he feels so _drained_, so _weak_ that he decides to stay there for a moment longer, so as to ground himself but he cannot stop _staring_ at the blurred map, the prominent _group_ of Remnants and-?

"Rush?"

The voice is _familiar_ but he does not place it at first, so _drawn_ to the peculiar dot.

"I'm…" His tone is strangely low and for a moment, he's unaware of it, unaware of _anything_ for his thoughts are sent into a whirlwind of _images_, voices and _sounds_ and he's _shaking_; he isn't sure _when_ that started happening but he's shaking and are there _murmurs_ spilling from his lips? Jumbled and _strange_ and _almost_ non-sensible, and he _almost_ laughs because that's _like_ him, right? And perhaps there is a _chuckle_ there somewhere, thrown within the cacophony and he feels himself tossed _adrift_, as if everything is fragmented and _strange_ and-!

( _come, little remnant! little **warden**. stop once, stop **twice**? NO. NO NO NO NO NO**NONONONO**_)

"You want... _that_?" His voice is _curious_ almost, lilted and _strange_ but suddenly—_finally_ there is an intrusion. Someone is gripping him and_ shaking_ him by the shoulders and calling and he can vaguely register that he is _glowing_, that this _light_ around him is growing in _intensity_ and it is _abnormal_, he is _sure_ and—how long has David been shaking… him like… this?

"Wh-what?! Hey—Dave! Dave!" He yells all of a sudden, _life_ coming back to him and he's _almost_ unaware of what had happened. It felt like a dream and his memory is _hazy_ but there was something _crucial_ in that moment that he'd forgotten, something_ important_. All the same, his eyes are wide and _confused_; the light emanating from his figure is gone and he registers the _worry_ within the other's own hues, the _desperation_ and he's uncertain of what exactly the other has seen, what exactly has _transpired_ in it's entirety.

"Rush?!" All at once, David stops his motions and _now_ the young Sykes can see the naked _panic_ upon tan features and he wishes he really _hadn't_ because what he'd been doing wasn't _that_ scary, was it? What even _was_ he doing in the first place? "You're back?" An _odd_ choice of words, but there is relief upon the Marquis' face. He also notices the tight grip has not gone away either.

As if realising the maintained connection, David slowly releases him, and those features are composed once more though the worry is still _clear_ in his face. "You… you worried me." He tells Rush quietly. He steps back, and glances towards the Tracking Remnant. "What were you doing here?"

Rush grimaces. He isn't exactly _sure_ of the reason, but he can't exactly leave the Marquis empty-handed either. "I… I was curious." He says lamely; it _is_ partly true, though.

David looks at him. "What's wrong?"

A sigh escapes Rush's lips before he manages to stand—albeit _shakily_ and he notes how the other shifts as if ready to catch him at any given moment—now finally letting go of the Tracking Remnant. Before he can answer, however, the Marquis approaches once more and grasps him gently by the forearm. "Away from there, Rush. I do not want… anything else strange happening to you." He says quietly, and Rush thinks he imagines the catch in his voice but all the same, he doesn't protest to the other's wish. He doesn't think he can really _handle_ another episode like that. Neither could the Marquis as well, it seems.

Settled now in the castle garden, David finally lets go of him before turning to Rush. There is a silent query within those eyes and the young Sykes gives a half-hearted shrug, not entirely sure what to _say_ but he's sure the other expects an answer nonetheless. "I just… the thought of that new thing is giving me the heebie jeebies." He's about to say _more_ before there is a twitch upon the Marquis' lips that does not go undetected. "What? What is it?"

A short laugh escapes David before he hurriedly collects himself, a hand quickly rising to cover his mouth. "My apologies, Rush. I was merely amused at your choice of terminology. Please, continue."

A smirk manages to quirk his lips for a brief moment because _that_ of all things had gotten then other to smile… huh. "If you say so." Though, there really isn't anything _else_ to say. The smirk fades from his face, as does the other's smile. "I don't wanna sound like _I'm_ the only one feeling like this. I mean, you guys as well are getting chills from it, right?"

"Perhaps." The Marquis responds in a contemplative tone. He starts moving then, past Rush towards the centre of the garden to stare at the flowers. Both hands laced behind his back, he speaks up once more. "However, what happened back there is not something we can attest to happening to us. Please, what did you see, Rush? What exactly happened?"

He shuffles at first from slight discomfit, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He isn't even sure how to even _explain_ what had happened, only that it _did_. "When I was looking at it, it felt like I was being drawn in. I dunno how to explain it." Eyes cast down, he wonders what exactly is going through the Marquis' mind. "I'm really sorry, Dave. For worrying you like that, I mean." He shakes his head, and lifts dark hues to meet the other's own once more. However, what he's greeted with is, of course, a completely composed expression. Yet, he can _tell_ the Marquis is worrying—it's just in his nature! And of course, Rush moves forward immediately, a reassuring smile upon his face as he pats David upon the shoulder. "It'll be fine, Dave. 'M sure it's nothing." When it does nothing to lift the Marquis' mood—indeed, the stare seems to get even _more_ intense—, he grabs the other by the forearm, much like he did to Rush beforehand, and starts moving along the garden. It's nearing dawn, and he imagines the others are not too far from waking up now. "Daaaave~? You in there? We still gotta get ready!" He hopes the sudden anxiety hadn't shown in his tone. He really doesn't want this hanging over David's head.

There is relief when the other finally responds. "Yes. Of course. Thank you, Rush." The response is grateful but there is still something _monotone_ underlying his words. Dark brows draw together briefly on the young Syke's face, but he tugs him along all the same, glad he got something out of the other at _all_.

"Be careful, Rush." He almost doesn't hear the next words from David, but he nods in response, flashing a grin back at him.

"As long as you are, Dave."


	3. dhá

"Rush?"

The male in question turns to the call and smiles immediately upon realising it is his sister. Moving closer among the entirety of their entourage (and it is _large_; they travel in more of a disorganized clump right now than David and his generals, already within some sort of formation despite the sanguinity of their travelling so far) he gives a questioning look towards her. "What's up, sis?"

"What do you think of those lights? The ones… we're visiting now?" Is it just Rush, or is Irina sounding a little… _wary_? But then, she has every _right_ to be yet it felt as if _some_ of that wariness is directed towards him. Still, he has to wonder at her choice of wording—she made it seem like they were going on a leisurely stroll rather than on a race against time to beat the Conqueror.

"I dunno." He says, and he wracks his brains for something _else_ to tell her because she's probably expecting more than _that_ if she's asked him such a question. "I have a feeling it's threatening, though. I can't really think of it any other way." What he_ felt_ earlier this morning is not something to be brushed off so easily—even now, he can recall bits and pieces (heck, _David_ probably can remember it far better than him) and though he wasn't seriously _harmed_ he still felt… _drained_. It's unnatural, and he can only hope that was some sort of fluke with the Tracking Remnant. Perhaps he had accidentally asserted power with it when looking at that particular group of Remnants?

Irina makes a small hum of doubt. "I guess…"

"You have something in mind?"

"The presence feels… familiar." She glances towards him, and he has to wonder what that look means. "Like…"

"Forward, men! The Lindblum is upon us!"

And of _course_, she is sorely interrupted by the warning shout of David. Perhaps it is with good reason, but Rush wishes he could have heard the second part.

"Rush!" That's his queue; whatever the situation, it is _always _necessary to gain the upper hand with an enemy and so in response to David's call, there is a flux of_ power_ within him, his Talisman glowing _brightly_ and he's _ready_ to use his Timeshift ability; even now, he can see the telltale signs of the enemy slowing down, those great wings _faltering_—

_… What?_

It's as if time has slowed down _incredibly_ and it is not of his doing at _all_. He sees David's union go forth at the utilization of his ability and even the _rest_ of them advancing but gradually, they slow to a stop. Even the Lindblum itself does not move, and there is not a single breeze in the wind.

No, it is not as if there is any _wind_. The entirety of _time_ has stopped.

He thinks, at first, that perhaps he's used too _much_ of his Timeshift ability, and he moves among the frozen figures of his friends, uncertain and _wary_ at this new environment. Jogging over to the closest person—Nora—he waves a hand in front of her face for _any_ kind of reaction, any _movement_.

Nothing.

He begins to panic.

And it does not help that something is _moving_. Or perhaps, some_one_. At first, he thinks that maybe one of his friends have broken free of the spell but upon realizing that the figure is unfamiliar, he draws his sword. Currently, the rest of them are useless in the face of this new adversary. All of them kept captive under time, he feels _anxious_ that he would not be able to protect them from this threat. Even now, the shadowed figure approaches and how strange, how _ethereal_ it seems. It is tall in height, and there is such a _tattered_ dark cloak covering it's body. Rush swallows hard; it… _they_ hardly seemed human. Even the feel of him or _her_ felt off, enough to make his skin _crawl_ with distaste yet also… _familiarity_.

"I … ( _feel_ ) you."

The _tone_ is one that _echoes_ and **_echoes_**; unreal in _nature_ and it is as if there are _several_ voices speaking from one mouth. It is a voice he does not recognize and for a moment, he considers approaching. The hood that the figure wears conceals his features, but at the very least Rush can tell it is a guy. _Older_ as well, but that _voice_… he catches a glimpse of something _glowing_ within that hood; something that can be considered as _eyes_ and that green light is wholly _familiar_—

( **_ N_** )

"Wha-?!" He jumps in alarm when the man vanishes. Looking around wildly, it takes him a moment to realize that time is _moving_ again and he's almost bowled over by a fast-moving Blocter who tumbles over_ him_ in turn and they _both_ go down with a yell.

"Whatdya doin', Rush?!" The yama's yelling with surprise and Rush flails for a moment before he feels the other pull him up bodily and he shakes his head in the process, attempting to clear the strangeness of such a moment in time.

"Woah—thanks, man!" He grins at Blocter but almost wishes he _hadn't_ because the big guy pats (more like_ bashes_) him on the back comfortingly (which almost makes him tip forward once _again_) before charging into battle with the rest of his union. Raising a hand to his forehead, he has to re-orientate himself with the situation once more. Right—so about that _Lindblum_…

"What're ya up to, _punk_? Not zonin' out on the battle, are ya?" Nora's voice echoes from behind him imperiously and he has to straighten automatically, a sheepish smile upon his face now. The rest of his union gather behind her, and he has to firmly give himself a mental slap. Right. He can't let his team _down_ at this moment. _Later_, he'll mull over what had happened—if he ever _got_ a later to himself, that is.

"Sorry, sorry!" He calls out, and fist pumps the air whilst drawing out his sword with his other hand. "Alright, troops! Let's kick some A!"

And he _almost_ doesn't notice Irina staring at the exact spot the strange figure had been.

* * *

><p>As it turns out, the Lindblum wasn't <em>that<em> powerful. The only reason they _had_ a few close calls is because of _Rush_. And perhaps even Blocter. But _only_ because they began to engage in a _friendly_ competition on how well they could dodge the monster's attacks. _More_ than a little foolish, as both David and Torgal points out but the fact that no one got harmed is evidence enough that they can muck around a little.

"As much fun as _playing around with a monster_ may be, this is not the time to be fooling around." David's tone is stern the moment the Lindblum is vanquished (_unfortunate_, because Rush is sure they could've fetched an _awesome_ price if it were captured alive) and he sheathes his sword, giving a hard stare to Blocter first before it transfers to the young Sykes. "Please, let us get this over with." He remarks. Emmy alternates her gaze between both Rush and him, her gaze unreadable yet seemingly gone unnoticed by the Marquis.

"Oh, gee." Blocter covers his face with his hands and his tail swishes sullenly. "I'm sorry, young master."

On the other hand, Rush feels like he just witnessed a puppy being kicked. He has half a mind to try and snap David out of it, but there is a warning glance from Torgal and he decides to relent. A hand lifts to rub at the nape of his neck and his gaze averts down. "Sorry, Dave."

"It is quite alright, so long as it does not happen again." David remarks and Rush cannot read his expression. All the same, the Marquis turns and starts to move off once more. The rest of the generals follow him slowly—as does the rest of their unions—but Rush is surprised to see Emmy linger back, beckoning him with a hand.

"My lord is worried, I suspect." She says to Rush, and he figures as much, eyes trained upon David's back and he notes how _tense_ those shoulders are, how _guarded_ the male is when he usually _isn't_ when surrounded by the people he cares for. It is only when matters arise that such a front goes back up, but he knows that David wouldn't have _normally_ told them off for their antics. Indeed, he expected_ Torgal_ to instead. "I'm sure he'll be back to normal once our side-trip is finished."

"Yeah, I'm sure he will be too." He responds, and returns the small smile she gives him before she departs once more, catching up with David and the rest of his entourage up the front. Staring after her, he's unsure of what to think right now. On one hand, he wants to pull the Marquis aside and tell him what just happened when he Timeshifted, but on the other…

Well, David seems to have enough on his mind already—Rush doesn't want to _add_ to that. No, perhaps it's best he kept it to himself for now.

"Rush? What did… that man say to you?"

Or not.

He half turns towards his sister. She walks beside him now, and he can tell she's… _worried_ by the way she holds her hands to her chest. He doesn't_ blame_ her though, for if she really did see what had happened, then…

"Wait, you weren't frozen…?" Rush pauses in his gait and she stops with him; delicate features are drawn in apprehension but her jaw is set in a stubborn line. He imagines she won't take any answer that _isn't_ the truth but he notices the others stopping to look back at them and the curious stares still his tongue. He's not entirely sure how his face must've looked then, but it seems to be enough cause for concern because David starts to approach, a query already upon his lips. "We'll talk about it later, alright, sis?" There's a warm smile upon his lips but Irina seems reassured by it, nodding in agreement as she too notices the Marquis' approach.

"Is there something the matter?" Hazel eyes are fixated upon them both and there is a no-nonsense tone underlying his words. For a moment, Rush considers pulling _both_ of them aside but now, up _close_ he can see how tired David is, the _bags_ steadily developing under his eyes and there is a certain _weariness_ cloaking his figure. Had Rush simply not noticed it, too consumed with his own goals? All the same, he is _concerned_ for the other, and doesn't wish to burden the male with any more things that he needs to worry about.

And so, a grin settles upon his features and he strides forward, meeting the Marquis halfway as he slings an arm around his neck, marching him back _right_ the way he came. David staggers slightly at the sudden action taken but he manages to orient himself the _right_ way, a vaguely annoyed look upon his face. "What do you think you're _doing_-?"

"Just moving along, Dave. Isn't that what you said to do?" He claims, nudging the other forward insistently; ahead, the Generals collectively sigh before moving on themselves. Rush can only hope that David won't protest and pursue the matter, but it seems his current worries are for naught.

"I suppose." The Marquis says simply, before glancing at the arm Rush still held around him. Feeling vaguely embarrassed at the prolonged contact (which is a _first_, he admits) he lets go, doing an awkward spin (to which David cocks a brow at; there is no telling the _incredulity_ within such a gaze, nor the slight amusement) so as to detach himself before slowing down enough to walk once more with Irina.

He will have reignited the conversation between them, but things felt… _tense_ now, despite everything. The air felt _odd_ between them all, and he decides to remain quiet until they reach their destination. It seems as if the rest of the group reach the same conclusion, and they march in silence.

* * *

><p><em>Did it all feel like a dream?<em>

_Yeah._ He sleepily answers the croon with a soft thought. _Kinda_…

_Then perhaps you should sleep._

* * *

><p>He wakes, but he doesn't think he <em>has<em>. Not _really_.

There is the throne room before him again, yet sitting in the chair is one that he does not recognize. Indeed, it _should_ be David sitting there, calm and perhaps even _expectant_ but now… _now_ there is a far _older_ individual there, someone who _looks_ like the Marquis yet… _older_? He is taller and _leaner_, wearing _fully_ red and black, the colours of _Athlum_ and blonde hair that had only _just barely_ touched his chin has grown half an inch past his shoulders yet still carrying the layered effect it had when he was younger.

Before he realises it, Rush is moving forward.

And his strides are _longer_ somehow. He glances towards the ground and it is further than he is used to; his body feels strangely _heavy_ and now—_now_ it seems as if he is looking through a light green filter and it is _flickering_, on and off before disappearing completely. It is_ dark_ without such a filter, but he still manages to see through… _whoever's_ eyes he sees through.

Gradually, his senses register. Or perhaps, not _all_ of them. There is rough material covering his body, and it takes a moment to realise what he's _wearing_. Similar to perhaps what the _Conqueror_ wears, both in design and _make_, but the colour is instead a deep emerald, laced with black. There is a spike of apprehension upon realizing such a fact for the implications aren't really _ace_ at all.

This is a dream and yet this feels incredibly _real_. Save the whole unable-to-control-the-body thing which is _expected_, he supposes. The fact that he _clearly_ (hopefully?) is not himself, though? _Not_ expected.

And, despite everything that is currently going on, he cannot get over how… incredibly _hot_ David is.

…If that _is_ him.

And Rush wonders why _that_ kind of thinking is even entering his _system_ at a time like this but—

_He really, **really** looks-_!

He suddenly wishes he could just stop life for a moment and just _stare_ for a bit… not that he isn't doing it shamelessly _now_ but—

More staring.

Just… _damn_.

Apparently, inhibitions and secret desires _really_ let loose in dreams as well.

( -_beautiful soul, grandiose and calming and **sweet**- _)

Finally, there is _sound_.

( _-you like him; **prefer** him? a mere **mitra**?_ )

…_What?_

Rush stills his thoughts despite how _wild_ they are right now, fearing that if he thinks too _loudly_ then it would disrupt the hushed voices, the ability to _perceive_ them at all.

( -_love **him**_- )

David's head lifts, and Rush feels frozen to the spot. Apparently, the person who's point of view he sees this from feels the same way, for the footsteps halt upon dark eyes connecting with his own.

"Are you well?"

( -**_ ?_** )

His voice is as accented as he remembers yet a little _deeper_ than Rush is used to. Inwardly, he wonders why _that_ is asked, of _all_ the questions but the context is something he is bereft of. Something along the lines of 'why are you dressed like the Conqueror?' or maybe 'the year is currently _' could be helpfully said so as to gain _some_ information but of course, dreams are ever so _vague_. There is a shift from his dream-self, and his vision averts to the side before fixating upon the Marquis once more.

"Are you, Dave?" The response is unfamiliar, but _no one_ calls David that except… _himself_. Really, this shouldn't be surprising at _all_ yet… it is strange, how dreams can dampen _any_ kind of emotion within the sleeper.

Except, perhaps, _terror_.

_No_.

Darkness envelopes him once more.


	4. trí

He wakes to a frozen world once more.

Blinking blearily, he doesn't really suspect_ anything_ at first. There is a dream he has just woken from that he cannot_ entirely_ remember yet he feels a sense of _urgency_ about it, as if it had been terribly _important_ but no matter how much he wracks his brains, the truth of such a dream still _dances_ from his mental grasp. Sighing in slight aggravation, he gives up, staring at the coarse material above him.

It's only when he turns on his side and sees that Irina isn't _breathing_ that he begins to notice.

He jumps up straight away, the blankets falling away from him easily as he scrambles to his sister's side, worry etched in every _part_ of his face as he attempts to rouse her, hand hovering over then shaking her shoulder. "Irina? Irina?!" He's close to calling for help, shifting closer to move her on her side but—

( -_sleeping slee…ping… slum…ber…ing_- )

He jerks back at the unfamiliar—yet, he has_ heard_ this before—tone and looks around wildly, trying to discern the exact_ origin_ but there's no one else around. Only Rush and Irina shared this tent whilst the others were divided into their own groups (which was an _uncommon_ occurrence; normally, the males and females were _separated_ but Irina, this time, seemed _insistent_ that they stay together). However, there _should_ be a few watchmen outside, especially Torgal since he liked to take the first watch during night.

Getting up, he decides to get some help.

The aforementioned general shouldn't be _too_ far away; if Rush is remembering it correctly, he _always_ stood outside David's tent. Not unlike him, and _unsurprising_, considering he's been looking after the Marquis since he was a_ child_, after all.

But then, even when Rush gets _out_ of his own tent, he notices something strange. The torch a guard is holding up…the _flames_ themselves were not moving. And neither does it seem that this particular guard has _noticed_ Rush come out of his tent at all; the general _stillness_ of the world catches his attention now, and the motionless Irina now finally makes sense.

_Again?!_

The fact that this is even happening is _strange_—Rush hasn't even _tried_ to use Timeshift nor were they in battle. But then, maybe it is _dumb_ to assume that it only happened in those conditions. Unfortunately, however, it also meant that strange _man_ is visiting and that doesn't reassure Rush _at all_.

Urgency rising within him, he makes a mental checklist. First and foremost, Irina seems safe. Second, he'll have to check on David. He wasn't sure _where_ the mystery man was, but he couldn't take chances with him if he's able to freeze the whole of the _world_ except himself. And Rush. Of course, _that_ part doesn't make any sense, but it's not like he's gonna question it at all.

Still, that doesn't dampen the dread forming within the young Syke's gut.

He moves quickly, _alarmed_ that he doesn't see the strange figure right away. Before, he came straight _to_ Rush and while there may be a chance he hasn't come at all, Rush doesn't want to take it. No, he has to ensure the others' safety and he'd be _damned_ if he let _any_ of them get hurt, not when he can do something _about_ it.

The fear only heightens when he sees the flap to David's tent open.

"Dave!" The yell is ripped out of his throat in sheer _worry_ and he's darting forward, passing a motionless Torgal before he busts into the tent (more like _stumbles_, his foot _just_ catching on the material), grasping his sword just in _case_ and-!

Pause.

His heart stops. Or, at least, he _thinks_ it does for the scene in front of him is not something he _expects_. The strange figure is _there_, kneeling next to David's prone form and he's… _caressing David's cheek?_ There is a certain _reverence_ seen in such a touch, the softest _hum_ echoing from the depths of that hood but Rush doesn't want to watch. He doesn't even want to _know_ what the apparition is even _thinking_. Rush's teeth bares then, still _wary_ and it is without a moment's hesitation that he charges forward, a _cry_ upon his lips—

"_Don't **touch** him!_"

And he's _already_ slashing _down_, attempting to try and drive the figure _away_, perhaps _scare_ him off because there is a _fury_ now ignited within Rush, a strange type of _rage_ that anyone would even _touch_ David like that and, oh, he wants this adversary to _leave_. _Right **now**_—

Perhaps, later, he'll look back on this moment. Later, he'll wonder why he gets so _incensed_ at such a sight because it was not like David was being _harmed_ by the stranger. No, Rush should be _grateful_ that no bodily harm had come to him and should have instead inquired as to _why_ he was there in the first place, why he found it necessary to _stalk_ both Rush and David and what _exactly_ brought about his _familiar_ time-stopping abilities. S_till_, no one should be _allowed_ to do that, to even touch David like _that_ especially, no one should _dare_ because… _because_…

The figure vanishes.

_Hey-!_

Time starts moving.

"Oh, _crap_-!"

The momentum of his sword is pulling it forward, down _toward_ David and there is _panic_ lacing down his system because in his haste to protect him, he might accidentally be the one to _hurt_ him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees eyes snap _open_ from their slumber from his _own_ loud cry and they widen _considerably_ upon witnessing keen metal come _far_ too close to his face—

A groggy yell. "_Rush-?!"_

In a smooth motion, David manages to roll out from under the oncoming blow but at the same time, Rush halts his own attack by shifting his weight and ultimately _throwing away_ the sword so as to divert it from David. The metal clangs against the ground loudly enough to attract attention from outside and _there_ Torgal is immediately, all four swords drawn and Rush whips around to just _gawk_ at the suddenness of _everything_ right now and he cannot even manage to think up a single _excuse_ for—

"My Lord! Are you unharmed?" For a moment, Rush thinks the General would immediately go to David's side but instead there is a side glance given. At first, it's _odd_ but then the reason occurs to him and his features turn _affronted_ now for Torgal isn't letting up on his defence at _all_ right now; indeed, he only seems to get warier by the _second_, his swords raising _at_ Rush as if expecting some kinda _attack_ from him. Though his actions are _questionable_, he still feels offended that the others would immediately _jump_ to such a conclusion.

"I am well, Torgal." There is a grimace upon David's face, and in the torchlight he seems _far_ more tired than initially perceived. Mostly, maybe, because Rush has interrupted a well-deserved _nap_ but that's beside the point. Did he really have to be held at swordpoint?! Before he can even speak, he's shut up by the distinctly _cold_ look David shoots towards him, and for a moment Rush thinks that he's _beyond_ mad for him attacking him in his sleep.

At worst, it seems like an attempted assassination.

"I believe he may be enthralled." David continues, and dusts off his clothes. His gaze does not stray from Rush, and there's an emotion within those hues that the young Sykes cannot entirely pinpoint. Still, that's not currently his _top_ concern right now.

"Wait, wait! Dave!" Rush stands and Torgal tenses at the sudden movements. "I'm fine! See? Good and dandy! Pleasedon'tkillme." He swallows hard, for there are rather _brutal_ consequences for falling under enchantment by the enemy. Nora had suggested it, considering how _hard_ the battle against The Gates of Hell had been, and though it was _risky_ it _worked_.

All the same, Rush wishes there was some sort of _recovery_ art designed to cure _that_ particular ailment.

However, it turns out he doesn't have _too_ much to fear. The moment he moved into the radius of the torchlight, Torgal and David relaxed _immensely_. A quick glance back told Rush that perhaps the majority of his features were covered in shadow, enough to be _freaky_, at the very least. Torgal sheathes his swords, glancing towards David. A nod, and the Sovani moves out of the tent once more to give privacy for, Rush _imagines_, some questioning.

He expects the queries to come straight away, but as he waits for David to speak, the Marquis moves past him and Rush turns with him, a brow arched. The blond bends down, grasping the hilt of Rush's sword before straightening once more; he turns to Rush, and instead of offering the weapon he instead sheathes it for the Sykes. His hand lingers there and Rush is at a loss of what to _say_ exactly for the silence is turning more than a little _awkward_ now but before he can finally decide to _do_ something, the Marquis smoothly steps back, gaze connecting with his own.

"So what possessed you to strike at me, if not enthrallment, Rush?" The tone is as neutral as always, but he doesn't sound _mad_, he sounds… c_ontemplative_.

Rush raises his hands as if surrendering and in a way he _is_. "It's not what you think, Dave. I just, mm—" He _yawns_ then, one hand lifting to his mouth as if to cover it whilst his free arm goes to the side to stretch; he hopes it isn't too obvious that it was _fake_. "Y'know, I think I'll head to bed. We can talk 'bout this in the morning, right?"

Apparently, he isn't as crafty as he thinks he is. By the blatantly _unimpressed_ look upon the Marquis' face, Rush guesses he's already seen through the lie with ease. "Rush." He starts, and his voice is _flat_ now, losing that light, thoughtful tone and Rush wishes he can have that _back_, if only to avoid the agitation _swirling_ within those eyes. "You are not tired, Rush. I can tell when someone is lying to me." When Rush's face visibly deflates (ah, such a _sinking_ feeling in the pit of his stomach once more), the Marquis seems to soften. "Please, tell me what's going on. If it is beneficial for me to know, or perhaps to aid our quest somehow, then just tell me."

Rush debates for a full thirty seconds, in which David does not, as Rush expects, get steadily more and more impatient; no, his features remain neutral and _supportive_, silent and _stalwart_ in nature and, well, he can't really say _no_ despite how much he _does_ wish to keep it to himself for the sake of not putting _too_ much on David's plate. Still, the strange occurrences with the stranger had only started happening when they began investigating that group of lights upon the Tracking Remnant and if they were related in any way, then perhaps it _is_ best that he informs David of the going-ons.

"It… it started when we encountered the Lindblum…" He starts, and continues on to tell him _everything_. Every tiny little detail and the Marquis listens _intently_, dark hues fixated on Rush's face and the young Sykes cannot bring himself to look at him straight in the eye the whole time. Instead, he uses grand gestures to illustrate his points, occasionally looking _away_ from him and there is absolutely _no_ reaction from David, features still and quite _perfect_ in their impassivity. It takes a _long_ while, and throughout the storytelling, there is the slightest _sway_ in David's form. More than likely he's_ tired _and Rush wishes he could have been a little more forceful in the withholding information part of things. "…Then I bust in here and he's, well—" Rush gets to this recent part and he halts abruptly, wondering whether it is wise to depart with such a weirdly… _intimate_ detail but at the Marquis' face, expectant and _waiting_, he decides he cannot keep this from him either. "He's… _touching_ you."

Immediately, the Marquis' face becomes appalled and it would've been amusing—because this _whole_ time, David's features did not change one _tiny_ little bit—if not for the current context. "_What?_"

Rush holds up his hands once more, waving it in both their faces in a _clear_ negative action. "N-not in _that_ way! He was… he was a little gentler." He isn't sure _what_ words to use exactly but it seems that his attempt at _reassuring_ doesn't exactly help; indeed, David's face grows even _more_ offended at the thought. "W-well I mean he was touching your _face_ and _just_ your face! That's why I was—y'know, waving my sword around before you woke up…"

David looks at him, and Rush cannot imagine he's seen a face stonier than on the Marquis. There's an awkward silence for a few moments, with Rush desperately trying to think of something to _say_ to ease the discomfort of the atmosphere and he fidgets without pause, brows drawn together in consternation. However, he needn't fret for _too_ long. As if coming back to life, David inhales once before nodding. The words that come next stump Rush into next week.

"Thank you, Rush, for telling me _and _stopping whatever he was up to." The Marquis says measuredly and Rush has half a mind to ask him whether that's _all_ he wants to say. However, with the recent revelation he decides not to push it. Still, it seems he didn't have to wonder—David continues after a moment's pause, starting to pace now. "I must wonder at the origin of this mysterious being. If he can control time as you have described, then this is a cause for concern. As such…" The Marquis stops and looks at Rush. "Please, be careful. If you're the only one that is able to resist his power, then I imagine he'll pin you as a threat. It is lucky that none of us have died by his hand yet, though that may be soon to change."

"Hey—" The young Sykes moves forward and an encouraging smile tweaks the edges of his lips. "Don't worry 'bout it, Dave. I'll take care of it. You just focus on other things, alright?"

If anything, David looks _more_ stressed and worried. "You would be doing it alone."

Rush shakes his head, shrugging. "That's alright. I can take on this guy, no problem!"

"… None of us will be able to help you, Rush."

A frown now and it takes a moment to see where David may be coming from. Is this about the events at Koenigsdorf, perhaps? Features harden with a determined smile, and once again he wonders whether telling David about this was indeed the right choice. "It's alright. I can take care of myself, Dave." Grinning, he reaches over and squeezes the other's shoulder, an attempt to be _comforting_ and he hopes it helps. "You should probably go to sleep; y'look like you're about to fall over!" Nudging the other male, he winks before slipping out of the tent once more, calling out lowly after himself. "Have sweet dreeeeammmsss, Dave~!"

Unnoticed at the side of the tent, Irina's figure stands shakily.

* * *

><p>( <em>little, little |doyoumiss| him this <strong>puny<strong> tiny s o u l-_ )

A hand reaches out, reaches to such _warmth_ in comparison to how _cold_ he has become and ( **_he_**_ does not **miss**_ ) _him_, he is _sure_ of ( _that small tiny **detail**; what about your duty/life/**focus**?_ ); there is movement behind him, and he _almost_ ( _you do not MOVE? would you cast such PRECIOUS essence AWAY_ ) but time is ever so ( _SLOW_ ) for him, that he does not need to ( _decisions upon **decisions** are you READY **mhac **?_ ) nor _think_ right now. He can caress this ( **_moments_**_ are FOREVER in our WORLD here ; what is **hurrying** when we are **ETERNAL?**_ ), can treasure it for there is ( **_POWER_**_ THAT YOU ARE **NOT** ; **RIDDLED** WITH **MITRA** EMOTIONS_ ) lacing his very _veins_ but he knows he cannot delay his ( end is FOREVER, forever can be **_SEEN_**_, CAN BE **grasped** by U S_ ) and so there is a _shift_ of his will and he is—

( running, little WARDEN-)

"Shut up."

Rush wakes sweating, and he cannot remember what he has dreamed of.


	5. ceithre

"Here we are." Pagus' voice echoes through the air and Rush is glad that it is plain daylight. Ever since the last two incidents, he's been on edge the past few days of _when_ that strange being would come into play again (_especially_ at night, for it is _hard_ to discern between the darkness and the stranger's cloak) yet he's been lucky so far. It has not appeared, and for _that_ he is grateful.

All the same, he can only hope that the one that has been stalking them the past week is not the same one as the remnants they spotted on the Tracking Remnant. Now _that_ would be a _cruel_ twist of fate.

Yet as luck would have it, fate really _is_ cruel.

Initially, they had _no_ idea what they're supposed to be looking for, and with only David, his Generals, and Irina and Rush present (with the rest ordered to set up camp elsewhere), it would be hard to _miss_ something. Overlooking the Holy Plains, there is nothing _unusual_ in sight (it is a _vast_ plain, with _hardly_ any landmarks and so _anything_ would be able to be spotted with _ease_) when there _should_ be something, considering how _palpable_ that pulsing light was upon the blurry map. If anything, _that_ amount of remnants should not be _hard_ to find. Even Irina, who has the _natural_ talent of finding them, is having a hard time herself and in the end, David's face scrunches in pure consternation.

"Are you sure the location was _exactly_ here, at the Holy Plains?" David asks after a few minutes. He is still looking out into the plain, so Rush is unsure as to who he is addressing. He opens his mouth to answer, but Torgal beats him to it.

"We all bore witness to it, My Lord. Perhaps we should fan out and search for the cluster of remnants? It is likely that it is smaller than we imagined."

"Very well." David turns then, and his gaze sweeps over them. "Rush, Irina: with me. Blocter and Pagus will be together, and Emmy and Torgal will be the last team. Any objections?" When there are none, he nods, and sweeps his arm. "Make sure to find those Remnants, men!" Rush _almost_ points out that Emmy isn't exactly a _man_ but he supposes that the term must be used in general.

All the same, the Generals salute as one. "Yes, My Lord!"

* * *

><p>As the Generals moved off in their pairs, Rush moved forward, staring after them. He half-turns towards the other two, doubt <em>clear<em> upon his features. "Hey, Dave, are you sure that was a good id-?"

"Thank you, Mr. David." He looks just in time to see Irina bow to the Marquis. "I appreciate your support."

Rush's mouth goes dry.

"I hope your plan will work, Irina. It is a risky one." David responds, looking solemn.

The older Sykes stares for a moment before starting forward, a frown etching itself upon his brow as a dark feeling begins to gnaw at his stomach once more. "Wait, wait, wait—you guys _planned_ this?"

Irina looks towards him and there is a sorrowful gaze upon her face; at any other time, Rush would have relented right there and then. Yet now… the sinking feeling is strangely _strong_. "Rush…"

"My apologies, Rush." David easily takes charge, stepping in front of Irina ( _oh, how that **burns**_ ). His hands are raised, as if to try and placate him. "Irina came to me last night. There was no time between now and then to inform you privately."

( _LYING LYING do you **trust** that **boy**-?!_ )

His head jerks to the side, and he does _wonder_ about the strange _feelings_, these _voices_ filtering through his mind. Ultimately, he shrugs them off, and attempts to shrug off these ill emotions along with it. "It's fine." He says shortly, and moves past them, heading out into the plains fully now. Already, he regrets showing and _feeling_ this moodiness at all but he cannot find it in him to _stop_. Whatever this was—associated with both Irina _and_ David—does not seem to be going away anytime soon. "We should get going—the others might get suspicious."

"Rush-!" He hears Irina call after him, and he pauses, waiting to hear what she has to say. One second passes. _Two_ seconds—_five_ now and he wonders whether David has stopped her. Uncharacteristically, _irritation_ rises within him and he turns back, features twisted in _annoyance_ and he's ready to snap at them ( _that's it young **warden** they do not **deserve**, they are not **WORTHY**-! _), for _delaying_ both in moving _and_ in conversation but—

He stops in his tracks.

And there, behind him, is the stranger that Rush has been dreading to see.

Vaguely, he notes that the world has gone still yet, the Holy Plain is still in and of _itself_. The only reason why he _knows_ is because of how _motionless_ both Irina and David have become and the sun itself has become _dormant_ in it's rays; even in the distance, he thinks he sees Blocter in _mid_-_air_, strangely enough. Still, his main concern right now is the person before him—before anything else, he has to make sure both David and Irina are _safe_.

"Get away from them!" Rush yells, for the figure is far closer to _both_ of them than to him and _that_ is enough to set him on edge, nerves jittery and _frazzled_ for any wrong move could end _both_ their lives. Quickly, he draws his sword and in his mind, there are Invocations ready to be cast, ready to be _unleashed_ upon the other and—!

"**_W_**_(a)it_."

Voices upon _voices_ are _whisperedSCREAMED**said**_ and almost automatically, Rush stumbles back at the sheer _magnitude_ that command _holds_, how _powerful_ it is and he feels himself _crumpling_, his motions _fading_ into submission for the other said to ( WAIT ) and they—_he_ has to ( _obey him OBEY or whither just OBEY **O B E Y**_ ) and there is a _shudder_ running down his spine, a trickle of _fear_ spilling down the nape of his neck and he feels _stiff_, unable to act, to _move_. The power held is _unreal_ and he cannot do _anything_, can do _nothing_ but ( _OBEYOBEYOBEYOBEY_ ) and he _yells_ then, for he still _wishes_ to move, wishes to _deny_ this command, this _willpower_ for Irina and David are in _danger_ and he'll be _damned_—he'll be DAMNED-!

Slowly—_slowly_ he straightens and he _sees_ the other then, moving towards_ Irina_ and he shakes his head in denial, sees a gloved hand reaching out glowing with something _sinister_ and he _yells_, FORCES himself to MOVE because that's his _sister_, that's his sister and NOTHING will _happen_ to her, he'd SWORN IT—

"_DON'T HURT HER-!_"

Silence.

Then—light.

At first, Rush thinks he's done something. Rush thinks that maybe that strange power that'd flowed _from_ him, from the _Talisman_ back in Nagapur is back and finally, _finally_ he'll be able to help them, _save_ them but…

The light is blue.

It takes a moment for him to realise that Marion's Blessing is in play.

Dark hues glance up, take in his _sister_; the brilliant sheen of light cobalt and the intricate lines _shimmering_ around her forehead, the incandescent sphere of _light_ around her hands is indicative of her powers and beside her, he can see David slowly move, broken _free_ from the spell that the stranger has cast. A glance to the side tells Rush that not _everything_ has been relieved of the pause in time, else the Generals would have _definitely_ come running at the disturbance.

"Who… _what_… _are_ you?" Her voice is strained, and Rush quickly scrambles up, stumbling very _slightly_ from the dizziness for there is still a _cacophony_ within his head but it can be put aside for now. Currently, the one he should be concerned about is this _man_. And Irina… she doesn't seem to be looking too good. Rush hazards a guess that perhaps even her Blessing isn't enough to keep this guy's powers at bay.

Which meant that maybe the time for talking can _wait_.

He leaps forward _immediately_ with a cry—he hears a shout from David and perhaps even a cry from Irina, but currently he's far too _incensed_ with this person to respond, nor _think_ properly. Before he can inflict any sort of damage, the other whirls around to defend and _of course_, it won't be _that_ easy. Deadlocking with the male, he can see that despite the light shining down upon their forms, it _still_ isn't enough to disperse the darkness that dwells so _readily_ within that hood. A snarl rises in his throat, and vaguely, he _questions_ himself on his actions, his thoughts and irrational _anger_ but currently, right _now_ he wishes to make this person _bleed_.

"_You **threaten** Irina and you touched **Dave**_!" Teeth are _bared_ ferociously and he is not letting the other go anytime soon. No, he has committed wrongs _again_st his friend and his sister and there _will_ be Hell to pay. "_I **won't** let you get away with it!_"

Yet despite his resolution, he can _feel_ the difference in strength. While Rush is pushing with all his might against the man, it feels as if his opponent is holding him off with barely any effort at all. His brows furrow, and he notices David and Irina, wary and _hesitant_ in their approach and he wants to yell at them, wants to wonder _exactly_ what they're doing and why they weren't—

"_I **wo**uld**n**'t _(_ h_**_a_**_rm _)_ **th**em_." And there it is again, those layered and _layered_ voices, stacked upon one another and he has to jerk back, has to separate himself because there is that _light_ again, that familiar green _hue_ and it is coalescing more by the second and slowly—ever-so-_slowly_—, Rush releases the deadlock. Dark hues are wide as he gazes within the darkness of that hood except… except it isn't so _dark_ anymore.

He drops his sword.

"You…"

The other's throat is heard being cleared, and Rush _sees_ him, Rush can see the tufts of jet black hair and those _glowing_ green eyes, suffusing with a similar shade of _brown_ and he isn't _sure_ what to think, isn't sure what to _say_, _especially_ with the new addition of what seems to be _glowing tattoos_. His chest heaves in doubt and confusion, and David starts forward, concern clear upon tan features.

"Rush…?" His query is worried and hesitant, but he vaguely registers that the Marquis' hand is wrapped around the hilt of his blade. Good.

"Why…?" It is the only question that he _can_ ask in light of this new development. The figure merely shakes his head and a hand raises for a forefinger to press against his lips to indicate quietude. Even as this happens, there is _wind_ suddenly, whipping around the figure and how _strange_, the hood does not come off yet the cloak is tossed around with _ease_ and now—_now_ Rush can see the clothes he's wearing (_the same in the **dream**_) and his words are caught in his throat.

_Why?_

The figure disappears.

( **_do not_**_ oppose the **conqueror**_)

Rush can only stare at the spot that he _himself_ had been standing not ten seconds ago.

When he finally registers Irina and David, ceaselessly shaking and _calling_ him, he can only muster up one thing to say.

"He's… he's _me_."

_And it looks like I've gone to the bad side_.


	6. cúig

Irina—as Rush has somewhat suspected—does not look so surprised. Indeed, it seems as if she has known for quite some time, or at least had a _sure_ inkling as to the identity of the mystery guy.

David, on the other hand, gives the _most_ gobsmacked expression. Or, at least, as much as a Marquis _can_, which is incidentally only a partially opened mouth and widened eyes but that is enough for Rush to gain _some_ amusement out of it. "How can that _be_?" Rapidly, he gains composure and strides forward, gaze focused upon Rush and the mirth fades in the darker-haired male, only to be replaced by dread once more.

His gaze averts to the ground. "I'm not too sure, Dave, but I know what I saw."

"If that _is_ you then…" The Marquis' head shifted slightly, and he half-turns towards Irina. Rush doesn't even have the energy to even _feel_ that dark gnawing in his being when David puts a query forth to her. "Irina? What did you sense? Was he…?"

She moves forward and she is only looking at Rush. Her expression is grave, and Rush wishes she would stop gazing at him as if he were dying. "I think he's the one we were looking for." Her gaze averts to the ground. "There… were so _many_ Remnants in him. I'm not sure how that's even _possible_ but… _that's_ why it's so hard to even _resist_ that much power over time."

"Remnants?" Rush murmurs and he looks down to his hands. So that explained the strange lines across his counterpart's face, the _vividness_ of those brilliant green hues and even that _voice, _seemingly burdened with speaking for _many_. As to how that number of Remnants had gotten into him, well…

_It makes sense, if I'm a Remnant too_.

"Rush?" David approaches him once more, and his features are nothing less than that of concern. "What are you thinking?"

What is he _supposed_ to say? How is he supposed to even _take_ this? Nothing in this lifetime would have prepared him for this; there is nothing to fall back on, nothing to make sense _of_ when reacting to this very _situation_ and—Rush would have taken fighting the Conqueror right here, and right _now_ over this. Still, the thought of their enemy does not make him feel any better; the last thing … _himself_ said to him was-

He says the first thing that comes to mind, and perhaps that's all that matters.

"He said not to oppose the Conqueror."

* * *

><p>"You are certain, then, that that was truly Rush you encountered?" Pagus' voice fills Athlum's throne room now, and the Qsiti's features are as grave as the rest of them.<p>

It has been a few days; David had a forced march all the way back to Athlum. They could not afford, he said, to waste time now, not with this matter over their heads. The journey back had been quiet, and Rush was glad it'd been that way. He didn't think he could handle anything other than his own roiling thoughts. As it is now, he leans against a nearby pillar, not entirely willing to take any part in the discussion, even if it _is_ concerning himself in the distant future.

"We are." He can hear David reply, and a sigh parts Rush's lips. What exactly is his future self _thinking_ exactly? "Unfortunately, it seems he is siding with the Conqueror. We should expect no further interactions with him unless absolutely necessary."

There is silence, as Rush expects. Both Emmy and Blocter glance back at him, shock obvious in their features—also expected.

David looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face? Somewhat expected.

A sudden column of light cascading from the ceiling right in front of Rush, in the middle of the throne room?

_Not expected at all_.

"Ah-!" There's a brief yell of fright from Rush as he jumps, trying to back away but of _course_, there's the pillar he'd been leaning against, there in the way but before he can try to inch around it so as to give himself _some_ cover from the threat. Worry erupting within him, he glances towards David and the others—_good_. They seem to be unharmed; all of the Generals are already on point with their duty, standing protectively before the Marquis while David himself had Kellendros out, ready to fire at will. Inwardly, he's glad that Irina and their parents have gone off to spend some time in the city together, at least they're _safe_—though there may a small _twinge_ in his chest at the thought of them going without him, he cannot entirely deny that he'd basically _refused_ to go in the first place.

He was needed here, he'd said. Not that anything _exciting_ had happened until, well, _now_.

Drawing his sword carefully, he can make out a _figure_ coalescing from the light, slowly standing from what seems to be a crouched position and oh—the person _seemed_ tall, perhaps a few inches more than Rush. Despite the suddenness of this appearance, the Sykes felt that there is nothing to be alarmed at.

_Yeah, tell yourself that when he lunges at you with a sword._

He tightens his defence.

The incandescence slowly begins to fade. Particles of light disperse into the ceiling and Rush begins to actually _recognize_ the figure dusting their clothes. His jaw slowly drops, and all he can think about is the _dream_ that he'd had on the way to the Holy Plains.

David moves to the front of his entourage, slipping between his (_most likely_) shocked Generals. Apparently, he hasn't realized yet the sheer _magnitude_ of _who_ exactly has crash-landed into their meeting. Or maybe, he just can't _identify_ him.

_Which makes sense_. Rush thinks vaguely, _though I might've been a little faster when I was in his position_.

"Who are you? State your intentions!" David's voice rings out, and it is strong and _clear_ and when Rush looks at him, it seems as if he _does_ have suspicions, he _knows_ but he _has_ to confirm it first. Around him, the Generals are slowly waking from their shock and though uncertain, they are fast to tense once more, weapons at the ready as well as _themselves_ should their Lord command them to battle, no _matter_ the identity of this newcomer.

After all, if Rush's counterpart isn't on their side, how can they trust _David's_ counterpart?

"I am Lord David Nassau, Duke of Athlum." The answering tone is _just_ as strong and it is as Rush suspects though he _is_ confused at the change in title. He doesn't much understand what it _means_—_another_ thing he'll have to ask Pagus about—but he gets his answer straight away.

David's eyes widen at the other's words, and lips part in shock. There's a strangled sound in his throat and he takes one step forward, one step _down_ from his throne and his head shifts to the side, a manner that Rush has noticed about him whenever sceptical or even _surprised_ about something enough to question it.

"Athlum… is independent?" The Marquis sounds stunned yet there is an underlying tone of _happiness_ in it. To know that one day he will reach his goal must be something _extraordinary_ and Rush smiles then, despite the situation. He's _glad_ the other does manage to do it, even if he learns it in a rather unconventional manner.

To his surprise, the older Nassau does not seem to mind carrying on such a conversation. "It is. In my past, the Duke of Qubine decided to spring it on us when informing me that I was to be acting chairman for Congress."

Rush isn't entirely sure _when_ that time will come, but he doesn't focus on that. A grin splitting his features now, he takes a step forward, a hand already rising for a fist pump. "Alright, Dave!" Despite the unexpected situation, everyone seems to be carrying on _normally_ enough, _especially_ David. Apparently, his measure of composure is _limitless_ except when it comes to Athlum's independence, even in the face of his apparent future self. The Generals, however, seems to be a little _more_ sceptical yet… _observant_, if _that_ is even the correct word. They're appraising the person that seems to be an older version of their current Lord, and Rush can't exactly _blame_ them. It's not as if he himself isn't checking the guy out.

In a _totally_ non-sexual way, of course.

… Then again, older David _did_ have a _sweet_ A. It certainly isn't helped at _all_ by the garments he now wore; laced with the colours of Athlum, black and red, it is a far cry from what the younger David is wearing now (in clothes that, Rush admits, leaves far _too_ much to the imagination though of course that never derailed from the beauty that _is_ David Nassau as a whole). He never understood the heavy garments that the Dukes wore, but at least David, when _older_ stood out from that.

Rush appreciates that. Well, _that_ and his _fine_ figure.

"I apologize, Rush…" Apparently, Rush has zoned out enough to not even notice _fast_ this older version of David can move; _already_ he is there in front of him and Rush can see, out of the corner of his eye, the Generals move forward in alarm. However, the younger David lifts a hand, eyes intent on his counterpart who is now _kneeling_ before Rush, head bowed and how had he not _noticed_ it when his motionless hand was taken? Dark hues are wide upon the actions the David in front of him is going through and he notes how _easily_ the man seems to press his forehead against the exterior of Rush's palm and ultimately he is _unmoving_, incredibly _confused_ at the outcome of these events and he can only stand stock still, _gaping_ as David not only _kneels and takes his hand_, but also _kisses_ it.

A distant part of him is wildly _happy_ at this course of action. Even if it isn't the exact _time period_, David is here and he's taking his _hand_, he's pressing those warm _lips_ against his skin and he can feel those callouses upon his fingers, can feel how _rough_ they are and he shivers, utterly _taken_ by how _mesmerizing_ David is, no matter _how_ old he may be (surely not _that_ much older, for there is not a _wrinkle_ to be seen) and—

And Rush wonders why these thoughts are even taking place in his head in the _first_ place. He hasn't… he doesn't _like_ David in _that_ way, right? Sure, he found him _attractive_ but he doesn't _think_ he's considered anything romantic, doesn't think there's been a single _notion_ towards it—

( _foolish **m h a c** ; _

_ - remnants do not l o v e like **MITRA** do_ )

When had he started…?

( _to be bound is **ETERNAL** ; to bind **willingly** is to love blindly_

_ ha**ve y**ou **chosen** well, m h a c?_ )

"But I must implore you of something." David's voice is soft and _deep_ and there is that _accent_ he _loves_ lacing his tone and Rush _sways_ to it, finds himself nodding as if in a _trance_ and there is a _call_ in the distance but all Rush can focus on right now are those deep _eyes_, such sharp features and often _cute_ face and he cannot help himself—a hand raises to clasp atop the other's own and he notes now how _long_ David's hair has grown, only just _slightly_ past his shoulders but it still frames handsome features _perfectly_.

David's next words are both a plea and a command and something _else_ altogether.

"**_Stay with me._**"

( _a **trick**_ )

An unheard whisper.

Rush draws in a breath then, and right now it seems like David is the _only_ person within his sights, the only person that _matters_ and he is the one that he'll live for, fight for, and _die_ for. He'll protect him, he won't _ever_ let him get harmed and no one is to ever _touch_ him for—

David Nassau is _his_.

"Luminescence…?" There is a whisper of _awe_ to the side, the _only_ word heard by him for it is one that _resonates_ because he _knows_ this is what is happening, knows that the light illuminating both himself _and_ David is exactly _that_ and he finds he doesn't _mind_ it, doesn't mind being bound _to_ him. They own _each other_ and _that_ is enough, that is enough for Rush to pin all his loyalties on him, to trust him completely and _readily_ and…

"Dave…" He murmurs aloud, and his eyelids feel strangely heavy. He cannot tear his eyes away from David's and he supposes he doesn't mind _this_ either.

"Stop!" The voice seems distant. Rush doesn't pay any attention to it, and neither does David.

The light around them starts to fade. Rush's knees buckle then, and he feels strangely _weak_. "Sorry." The soft murmur escapes him, apology for being so weak in the _first_ place and unable to neither move nor _serve_ him the right way he _should_ be doing. He feels arms wrap around him comfortingly, but he does not think it is out of _forgiveness_.

"What are you _doing_ to him?! _Release him!_" He hears swords being drawn, the sound of _running_ now, steps _light_ upon the ground and there are _several_ people coming, attempting to intercede and _hurt_ David and there is a flare of _panic_ up his spine; he would _not_ allow harm to come to David, not while Rush is right _here_-!

"Rush." He lifts his head and—_yeah,Dave?Anythingyouwantmetodo,Dave?_—the other's features are so _close_ to his own and he only stares, _enamoured_ with how _finely_ those features are structured, how _mature_ they have become and David is gorgeous, truly and _completely_— "Protect me."

_Anything_.

It is _instantaneous_ how much _power_ laces through his very _being_, his _veins_ and he can flex it with just the power of his _will _despite his previously weak state; he is able to do anything and _be_ anything for David and he follows the command _immediately_, feels the light come _back_ and envelope them both and _expand_ and _protect_ them, a shell of sorts and the approaching _enemies_ are buffeted _away_ and one… _one_ cry of agony reaches his ears and he stiffens at the sound, feels his hand clench _painfully _in response_,_ because… it's ultimately _familiar_ but why can't he place it…?

"Come."

He stands at David's command and feels a _little_ stronger. The shield is still up and it is still _draining_ his energy, but he doesn't mind, he doesn't _care_ as long as it protects David. There is an arm around his waist, as if sensing his imbalance, and he's grateful that the other would even _bother_ helping support him. His gaze flickers over the weary figures upon the floor, the _enemies_ that had tried to harm the one beside him and they are _lower_ than dirt, they are _slime_ and if Rush had more power, then he would _crush_ them where they lay.

Except… _one_ is getting up. Shakily, and using his sword to support him. For some reason, Rush's chest _aches_ at the sight. Strange.

"_Enthrallment_?" The unknown person spits out, and there is a _heavy_ glare from him, from stormy hues that speak _legions_ of command and wisdom yet they reduce to agitated _worry_ for… for _Rush_? "Is _binding_ him not enough for you? Why must you stoop so low as to keep him under your thrall? Don't you...?" There is pure _confusion_ and _anger_ in that tone, and Rush feels himself move slightly towards him, feels his desires _shifting_—because this male is hurt and he needs _attention_ and he'd _sworn…!__—_but there is this _fog_ in his mind, _overwhelming_ in nature and the arm at his waist tightens.

"_Don't you **love** him?_"

Lights begin to build up around _both_ their forms, a tell-tale sign of _some_ sort of Art, though it is _wholly_ unrecognizable, likely something created in the future. Rush looks up, and the reality around him is _fading_, _crumbling_ around them and the process is _familiar_, if anything else.

And before they disappear _completely_, David's answer is simple, soft, and _sorrowful_.

"More than you know."


	7. sé

The aftermath is less than unpleasant.

The entirety of the scene had been swift and _unexpected_, so much so that David's head is still spinning even after the last vestiges of light had gone. He does not know _when_ he had reached out towards Rush, does not know when he had attempted to lunge _forward_ but he is kneeling on the ground now, unsure as _well_ of how _broken_ his visage is and he lowers his hands down, hanging his head between his shoulders on all fours.

_How could… this happen?_

"My Lord?"

Emmy.

He does not move when she approaches, or when she rests a gentle hand upon his shoulder. He has _failed_, ultimately, in protecting Rush, in protecting one of his _own_ and he feels his head _pound_ from the loss, and it is especially _more_ unbearable knowing that _he_ was the one to do it.

"If I had not hesitated…" He whispers and _knows_ he could have done something to prevent this, could have acted _sooner_, and he squeezes his eyes shut firmly, beating back the brimming heat at his eyelids. He is _Marquis_, a _leader_. Loss of his own men is not uncommon, and he has learnt to strive past it, to not make their deaths _meaningless_.

_Ah, but Rush is not dead._

Then why is he mourning so?

"My Lord, you could not have known. He had… _seemed_ cordial enough to the notion of cooperation." Torgal moves in now to the other side of him, and though he does not initiate contact like Emmy does, he feels his concern all the same.

The Marquis breathes, exhaling and inhaling slowly. It has been a long time since he has had to resort to breathing exercises, but his nerves have been _incredibly_ frayed. First, he has to worry about the Conqueror but now… now these individuals coming from the _future_ and only _adding_ to the problem. "Are those who time travel not obligated to make their present better by helping the past?" He asks suddenly, slowly sitting up and looking forward, out to the open of his beloved city. "Do they not come to erase the source of their regrets?" He wonders, then, when Irina and her parents will get back and what exactly he will _say_ to them.

"Perhaps they are helping, but in a far different way than we can imagine or even understand." Pagus answers him, shuffling forward and David accepts Blocter's silent offer of help, the yama hauling him to his feet successfully. "You are sometimes unpredictable, Lord David. Maybe even to yourself."

David stays silent for a moment longer. All of their words made sense—he is not foolish enough to deny them and insist upon his own beliefs. He trusts his Generals, and in turn they trust him back.

But do they trust _him_?

"Do you believe my older self will harm Rush?" He asks quietly of the four of them. As they are silent, he bends down, picking up the sword he had dropped earlier and slides it into its sheath. His counterpart, he had noticed, had borne something similar to Rush's own weapon.

It is Emmy who finally answers, and her voice is soft and sweet. She takes after her mother in this moment, and he sees Emmy in her _own_ right, a great fighter and someone who cares _deeply_ for those she is loyal to. He is grateful. "Lord David… did you not say it yourself?" She presses, and moves before him to look at him. "And _you_ said it, not your counterpart. You love Rush, and it is clear that… _he_ does as well."

_Ah, so it boils down to **that**._

David had not known it himself. He had not known how _deep_ his feelings for Rush had gotten, distracted as he has been with gaining independence for Athlum, finding Rush's sister, stopping the _Conqueror_—he had not paid attention to his own feelings at _all_ yet on occasion, he has _enjoyed_ talking to Rush, has found the other male amusing and _fun_ to be with. He could not think of a life _without_ him now that Rush has literally _blundered_ his way into his own, with no formality to _speak_ of. They had entered into their relationship as equals—not as a peasant and _lord_, but as _friends_—, and that… _that_ is what touched David the most.

He had not realised that he loved him until he saw his counterpart and Rush… _interact_.

Sure, he has seen both men and women hit on the Sykes alike. Whatever city they ventured into, there is always _someone_ who found Rush's charm appealing, someone who had wanted him for _themselves_ and _there_—_there_ David did not mind. He witnessed these flirtations, has seen individuals make the move on Rush but not _once_, not _once_ has Rush _ever_ responded. Perhaps he'll brush it off with an amused laugh or a joke, but there has not been a _single_ hint of him accepting any requests of being dated nor being taken to bed. David had rationalized it to there being a sweetheart waiting for Rush at home, but upon that line of questioning, Rush had responded otherwise.

'No.' He'd said, laughing, and had clapped David on the shoulder. 'Nothing of the sort, Dave. You _know_ you're the only for me~'

Never before had the Marquis taken something so _literally_, _especially_ subconsciously.

He had not assumed they were dating from then, because there was mirth in Rush's eyes, jest at the idea that they could actually _be_ together and perhaps there was _some_ unexpected deflation at that notion, but David had just shrugged it off, as always.

But seeing his counterpart move to Rush, despite _touching_ him so much more_ simply_ than all the other individuals within the pubs… it fires up David more than he can possibly _imagine_. When Rush's hand had been taken, when it'd been _kissed_ and when his older self had requested something so _personal_—it is not _exactly_ those actions that had gotten to the Marquis. No, it is the way Rush had _responded_ that set _fire_ to David's veins. Rush had looked at his counterpart, and saw someone _special_, someone incredibly _important_ to him and David was not _oblivious_ to how _taken_ Rush had been, so _enamoured_…

_That should've been me._

He almost surprises himself with how possessive he sounds.

Almost.

It is a strange thought nonetheless, for it _is_ himself that Rush has responded to. Yet, his _future_ self felt… _off_ somehow. Disconnected and…

He could not find the word.

"Thank you." He says finally and his words are _laden_ with his gratitude. He turns to his Generals, and once more is glad that they stay with him, _especially_ in light of these events for encountering the concept of _time travel_ is not something that they are _used_ to, he imagines. Indeed, the only experience they've had with it is Rush's Timeshift, which is _incredibly_ limited…

_Of course._

He starts to pace.

"What do you all think of my future self?" David asks first. "From my personal observations, he is… rather determined to do things on his own. He did not ask any of us for help nor try to explain the current situation." Inwardly, he is restraining himself from showing how absolutely _furious_ he is. Perhaps there is the slightest twitch of his jaw to indicate such a thing, but otherwise, the Marquis is utterly _composed_.

It doesn't seem to fool those who have both raised and grew _up_ with him, however.

"My Lord." Torgal steps forward, both sets of arms crossed against his torso. "I agree with what you have proposed. Your counterpart is indeed someone who is used to operating alone. From the looks of how he has handled things, I suspect…" A short cough escapes the Sovani, and it is then he looks away. "I suspect he has not had anyone with him for a long time."

Some of David's anger abates; he cannot imagine acting alone. He operates solely with his _team_ and that will not change, not if he can help it. Still, his outrage is not appeased _entirely_. "I cannot imagine what hardships he has endured, but that does _not_ excuse his behaviour." Fists clench by his sides and he shifts away from his Generals, unable to hold back his fury. "To control a friend—to control _Rush_ like that… it is one thing to _bind_ him but it is another thing _entirely_ to _enthral_ him." Never… _never_ under _any_ circumstances would he enforce his will upon another person, least of all someone he considered close to him. Perhaps his other self had thought it necessary, but it is _crucial_ to ask opinions first, not to just decide on his own. "He has not confided in us as he should have and instead has taken matters into his own hands." He turns back to his Generals. "If he saw it fit to control Rush, someone he _should_ have consulted beforehand, then he holds no trust in us either. I see no reason not to return the sentiment."

He steps forward, and they stand at attention. Sweeping his arm before him, tan features are hardened by years of command and he _speaks_ with all the _experience_ behind words that are clear and _strong_. "If you engage my counterpart at _any time_, then you are to take him down by _any means necessary_. Do not _hesitate_. He may be your Lord in the future, but _I_ am your Lord right _here_, right _now_. Disregard _any_ connection he may have to me, and I to him. You are not to see him as the future Duke of Athlum, but as the _enemy_."

He _sees_ the hesitation within their faces, he sees the wariness and _uncertainty_ that comes with such an order but they all nod in agreement, saluting as one. "Yes, My Lord!"

"I apologise. I am essentially pitting you all against myself but know that I do not make this decision lightly. It is clear that he will be a threat unless his intentions are explained." It will be hard for them to fight his counterpart at _all_, he is sure, and so that is why David decides to make the number one priority intercepting him _first_ out of them all. David will have _no_ trouble fighting his future self.

"And the other matter, My Lord?" Torgal asks, stepping forward. It is a vague question and to anyone else it is confusing for the Sovani does not elaborate. David, however, nods in understanding.

"I did not know that Rush is a Remnant. That was information not disclosed to me." He wonders if Rush knows it himself; really, David _should_ have guessed, after hearing that the group of lights upon the Tracking Remnant had been Rush's counterpart, but even then, perhaps there _had_ been a part of him that was suspicious, else he would be _far_ more shocked. "In any case, no one is to know about this. It is to be kept secret unless Rush wishes to share it." Nods follow from his Generals.

_Does this mean Rush is not Marina and John Sykes' son?_ David continues in his mind, turning away from them; brows are furrowed together, and he does not know what to think. _Are he and Irina unrelated? Perhaps it is best to consults the Sykes about this_. _If anything, **they** should clear up the confusion._

"What is your next course of action, My Lord?" Pagus' voice interrupts his thoughts.

David pauses once before beginning to voice his inner machinations aloud. "I admit, it does not sit well with me that Rush is within my counterpart's hands. _That_, I imagine, will be the first thing to take care of. The Conqueror can wait—"

"The Conqueror _cannot_ wait." Came a young voice, and David stills briefly before focusing on the approaching visitor, eyes wide upon the young boy that now strides into the throne room, steps sure and _proud_.

"My Lord-!" David steps forward, and rapidly does he compose his features for the Duke must _not_ see his emotional state. Not right now. He cannot afford to let anyone else be privy to the time travelling situation at hand. He can only hope that the other had not been eavesdropping.

The Duke of Qubine shakes his head, lifting a hand. "Please, David, inform me that you will not put the Conqueror on the backburner. Duke Ghor and myself have devised something rather _important_ for you to hear…"

Apparently, independence for Athlum is to come sooner than he has expected.


	8. seacht

He sits with his eyes half-shut in Enthrallment.

A mere _puppet_ he may be right now, lax when not being used but _fierce_ when his strings are pulled, when his _owner_ is being threatened. Right now, there is a soft buzz in his ears, a _lulling_ sound and he feels strangely _tired_, as if he has not slept in a long, long while. His mind is blank but there is no_ resistance_ towards this; he does not find it strange nor does he think he should oppose this at all.

He's not sure how long he has been here. He's not even sure where _here_ is.

… Should he care?

( **_WAKE_**_ little **WARDEN**. he is UNWORTHY UNWORTHY **UN****WORTHY** an ABERRATION to our **species** he is **NOT** to be TRUSTED _)

His hand twitches.

Not a moment later _another_ curls atop it, one that is not his own. Stormy hues gaze into unresponsive ones, and David is kneeling before him. Tan features are impassive, but he does not stay silent for long.

"I apologise, Rush. Truly, but I had to do this." His voice is soft. His free hand lifts, and it ghosts along the remnant's jaw, gentle and _caring_ yet full of so much _remorse_. The caress is sweet and is followed by a chaste press of lips against his cheek, a kiss that _lingers_ and as David separates, it is as if he is uprooting a tree from the ground for all the effort it seems to take him to do so. Rush _feels_ the kiss, the _touches_ but does not move, does not _react_.

He's not able to.

( _KILL HIM he is **not** WORTHY to step **AMONG** US ; are you not awake **MHAC**?_ )

There's a small noise made in the back of David's throat, and for a moment, Rush guesses it is a sound of despair. He suspects that he won't be finding out anytime soon, however.

"I cannot risk letting you go free. I know you far too well to do that." David stands then, turning away like a man avoiding a dreadful fate, and some part of Rush laments at the loss. "If you knew what was coming then I imagine you'll throw yourself into the danger." A short laugh, but it is dry. "But…"

The blond turns to him. "Rush, do you trust me?"

( _cast him A**WA**Y this **ABOM**INATION this **ABHORRENCE** of remnant NATUR**E** _)

His response is immediate as well as robotic.

"Yes." _I don't know_.

A grimace forms.

"… Of course you do." A murmured response, but it does not prompt Rush to answer back. His next words are quiet.

"I'm trying to save you."

Rush hears the _not-voice_ speak for him.

( _at what **price**?_ )

David does not answer.

* * *

><p><em>Still sleeping?<em>

_Mm_. He cannot muster a proper reply.

_Tell me, how do you see and feel past your limitations?_

A pause. A sleepy drawl. _Not sure_.

_Ah._

* * *

><p>"We are to visit the God Emperor tomorrow." Fists tighten around the ends of the arm rests upon his throne, and his gaze averts downwards, slowly and <em>reluctantly<em> processing the events that have occurred.

Finally, Athlum has gotten the independence she _needs_ and David _would_ have celebrated, would have been incredibly _pleased_ if it were not for the previous events dampening his spirits. To be chosen as the acting Chairman of the Congress, as _well_ as the one to seek an audience with the God Emperor about the Conqueror… can he really just put Rush on hold as he does this?

_Priorities_.

_A leader does not put their own needs before the needs of their people_.

He is the Marquis of Athlum—ah, the _Duke_ of Athlum now. It is his responsibility to safeguard his people, his responsibility and duty and _desire_ to protect and bring them _happiness_ and _security_, even at the expense of his own. The life of one does not equal…

Why is he trying _so hard_ to _convince_ **himself**?

A low exhale, and he reaches his decision. Before him, Torgal steps forward, concerned over his extended silence.

"Lord David?"

There is a flex of his wrist and he stands; he _steels_ his features and does not leave _any_ hint of what he is thinking. No, he has _far_ mastered the art of concealing _any_ emotion from _anyone_, he has done so since he has first stepped forward to be trained into a _Marquis_, a _leader,_ for _nothing_ can be more paramount than his people; no tears should be shed for him nor should there be any shed _from_ him. He made a _choice_ to protect his _people_ and take on their _burdens_ as a _whole_—

And he will _not_ go back on it.

_Rush… I am sorry_.

"It is an order we must follow through. The Conqueror must not be allowed to go on as he is now—if there are answers to be had from the God Emperor, then we shall find them."

His Generals know his doubts, his indecision and struggle—they can _sense_ it and he _knows_ they know. Still, they are duty-bound, just as he is.

Fists are slapped against their chests, and there is a simultaneous bow of their heads.

"Yes, My Lord!"

He'd not been thinking before, caught up in the possibilities of what Rush may be going through when there _may be_ nothing to worry about. After all, this is _himself_ he is thinking of, and perhaps anger and—he admits—_jealousy_, has clouded his judgement when he had been about to dismiss the Conqueror—a world _threat_—, deeming him less of a danger than his counterpart. While his intentions may not be clear, David knows he will never do anything to endanger someone he cares deeply about.

If that is to change throughout however many years then… no, he will _never_ let it come to that.

"My Lord, what about Rush?" Emmy steps forward then, and David wishes she had not.

He averts his gaze then, slightly ashamed. "He… he will have to wait, I'm afraid. The Conqueror is currently far more of a threat right now."

"Can we not send a search party on the side?" Torgal speaks now and the Duke shakes his head.

"I don't wish for anyone to face my counterpart without me. I need to face him myself." David clenches his fists for he's worried about what may _happen_ if there is to be a confrontation without him being there. He's not certain of what to expect, but...

"You do not trust us, Lord David?" Pagus cocks his head then.

Immediately, David shakes his head, inwardly aghast at such an accusation. "Of course I do! I just… need to oversee this one myself. I _must_ confront him."

Blocter begins shaking his fist. "We can do it, young master! We've handled you since you were a little kid, 'memba?"

A pause. How is he to approach this _at all_? He _needs_ to be there, to wrangle _answers_ out of his counterpart. It is not as if he doesn't trust his Generals, it is more of the desire to actually _be_ there.

"What… happened to Rush?"

His head jerks up from his contemplative stupor, eyes widening upon spotting the Sykes entering the throne room. Instantaneously, there is a _myriad_ of emotions within him and he feels his chest _tighten_ with such anxiety, wondering what _exactly_ he _can_ say to the sister of the one he's delayed the search for. Yet, how does she…?

"I felt it." Irina answers his unvoiced query—perhaps guessing it—, and looks up at David with crestfallen features. "I felt when Rush was taken from me—he really _is_ a Remnant then, isn't he?" She turns then, and he is slightly glad that sorrowful gaze is directed upon her parents. "Why didn't you _tell_ us? Is he your son? Was he ever _truly_ related to me by blood?"

David slowly stands, moving between his generals and they part for him, their expressions varying at the situation. The Marquis has no idea how to approach this sensitive topic, _especially_ since it seems like a private matter.

John is the first to react, and his weathered visage is grave yet _determined_ as he grasps his daughter gently by her shoulders. "Well, of _course_ he is, Irina! The moment your mother brought him to me, I already considered him a part of the family. It doesn't matter _what_ he is. He's _Rush_, and that's all that matters."

The knot of tension coils tighter in David, for he knows his explanation is coming up. Irina will turn to him and ask _where_ Rush is exactly—

"I thought he was a monster."

_You…_

Noting that everyone seems far too _shocked_ to articulate a proper reply to her words, Marina steps away, turning to pace a few meters. Her features are stony and closed-off, and David does not know how she can say that so _bluntly_ with such little _emotion_ in her eyes, in her very _expression_. It is frightening, but he cannot move an inch just yet.

"I found him in the Sacred Lands one day. It'd been a few years after John and I were married." She begins, and stops to face them; her hands are intertwined at her front, and her gaze alternates between them all. "There was a cradle—a floating cradle. At first, I thought it was merely a Remnant that had concealed itself to trick me somehow, a new one that could create illusions _vividly_.

I panicked at first. I had no idea what to do because what _could_ I do if I were already caught within the danger? I turned to run but… it started crying." _Here_ her expression flickers with _something_, but David is a little too far away to discern it, else he mistakes it for something like _disgust_. "I-I couldn't just _leave_ it like that. Some motherly instinct kicked in, and I went back, went to check on it and… it _smiled_ at me." There is a past wonder, a past confusion and _repulsion_ within her eyes and voice. David wishes she will stop referring to Rush as an _it_.

"I don't know what possessed me to take it back with me, but I knew I had to. There was no doubt in my mind then, that it was the first Remnant to be born as a Mitra. I was lucky to have come across it after I had finally developed the Tablet. I decided to leave it for now, and—"

"Stop!" Irina steps forward suddenly, arms sweeping out for her cry is _pained_, wholly _horrified_ at how her mother is speaking. "Don't refer to Rush as just an '_it_'. He's more than that, mom, you _know_ that!"

"Irina-!" There is no tremor in her tone, unlike her daughter's. She starts forward, her hand lifting to rest a hand upon Irina's shoulder—or perhaps even _hit_ her—but she pauses, slender digits now curling in a fist. Eyes fixate on it before she sighs, shaking her head; she flexes her wrist once before continuing. "I went back out of the Sacred Lands to find the Tablet. I couldn't just leave it…leave _Rush_ there. I knew I had to keep an eye on him." _Now_ there is pain entering her voice, and David is slightly glad to hear it. He does not want to end up thinking _she_ is the monster. "I returned and used the Tablet. I wanted to seal away the Remnant side of Rush so that only the Mitra side remained, so that he could be raised _normally_." Her hand ascends to rest at her brow and David can believe she is distressed.

"The Talismans… they're Rush's power. His Remnant side." Irina instinctively clutches the Talisman at her breast at the revelation, but she doesn't seem _too_ surprised. Marina notices this, and there is a thin smile curving her lips. "I did not intend for it, but Rush bound himself to you the moment you were born. It surprised me, because I truly thought he would be fully Mitra without his powers." She shakes her head, and the expression dampens once more. "I was wrong, of course."

She pauses for a millisecond before carrying on, almost _reluctantly_ and there is a clear undertone of regret. "… However, it turned out to be an advantage. Rush would serve to be your guardian, he would protect you and help you. I saw him as someone to be used, someone to safeguard you. Even after four years, I still did not see him as a son." Her eyes crease in remembrance, as if she is grieving.

To just use Rush like that… David cannot entirely _believe_ it, that she is conniving enough to manipulate a life like that but he cannot deny that he _too_ has tried to use Rush. The guilt of doing so rises in him, but he squanders it mercilessly. He will confess to it later, to Rush himself, so as to apologize for his misdeeds. Though, to think that Marina, a mother-figure, would do this… it is almost unimaginable to conceive.

He looks to Irina, and she looks far more aghast about this than he ever can be. He cannot imagine what it must feel like, for he knows she is as dedicated to her brother as he is to her. Had Marina intended for her daughter to love and want to protect Rush instead of just vice versa?

"A few days after Irina was born, Rush disappeared. I had no idea where he went—it was as if he completely vanished into thin air. I panicked so much, I _feared_ for Rush's safety. It's then I realised that… I truly _did_ look at him as more than a Remnant. I loved him like a son, despite John being the one to look after him all these years primarily. I had tried to distance myself so much, but of course it did not work." She looks to the ground and for once David can detect shame. He's relieved. She really _does_ love Rush, after all.

"Marina…" John moves forward now, and he clasps his wife's hand, holding them tightly in his own. He looked as if he was to say something more, but she merely nods once, smiling sadly at him.

"I… I had an idea of where Rush went. I had no clue as to how but… he had to be in Elysion, in the Sacred Lands. Where else would he go?" She squeezes her partner's hands, and looks to Irina once more. "Leaving you in John's hands, I decided to go there immediately. I was so desperate to find him, and I couldn't truly understand why.

And then… I found him within the Sacred Lands, standing before the cradle I found him in. I don't know how he got there, but I was scared. I was scared that he'd somehow leave and cease… cease being _Rush_, cease being the son I decided to keep." She bows her head, and there is silence. David himself had no idea what to say, what to even _think_. There is a whole _plethora_ of questions popping into his head at once, at _how_ Rush was born, how he came to _be_ but perhaps they are answers to be left for another time.

Irina is the first to speak. "Mom, you…" She doesn't seem to be able to find the words, but she turns to David suddenly, earnest in her stance. "Mr. David… if Rush was bound to me, then how did someone else unbind him?" Indeed, it's one of the questions that David himself has been brewing in the back of his mind. How exactly has his counterpart managed to do this?

Out of the corner of his eye, Torgal looks to him. "I believe it would be best to explain, My Lord."

There's no reason to keep it from the Sykes, and so David does not hesitate to launch into the story, detailing what exactly has happened. He's loathe to register the worry and horror within their faces, _Irina's_ especially and so he averts his gaze. The tale tastes bitter on his tongue (for there is an acrid mix of frustration, worry, and _helplessness_), and by the end of it he decides to move forward, to kneel before Irina and, placing his hand across his chest, he bows his head.

"I apologize for the actions my future self has taken, Miss Irina. I only wish that I knew his intentions so as to not cause you worry."

There is silence for a moment before a hand rests upon his shoulder, and he looks up. There is no placing the current expression upon Irina face, but she pats him gently with her hand.

"Mr. David…" She begins, and there is the most subtle curve upon her lips. "You love my brother?"

Oh.

"Well…" A short cough expels from his throat, and he finally stands, eyes averting awkwardly before they come back to rest upon her. "It is… complicated." He says lamely and he cannot explain _why_ that may be the case.

There is an admittedly _loud_ snort from Emmy and he has to send a mortified glare back to silence her.

Irina speaks once more, and he's surprised to see a smile upon her face. "I trust you then, Mr. David! And I know you might not trust your future self, but I don't think he'll harm Rush at all." She nods once, and her words are said with such confidence that the Marquis is baffled. "My brother is in safe hands!"

For a full moment, David stares at her, shocked. When he finally regains the feeling in his lips, he still cannot articulate his thoughts properly. "I… I don't understand… you-?"

Irina grins, and he feels his spirits lift, if only slightly. "Don't worry, Mr. David. Rush wouldn't want you to."

David looks back towards his Generals, confused. Hurriedly, Emmy steps forward, taking Irina's hands in her own—shamelessly pushing David back in the process—and smiling gently. "Thank you, Irina, for your faith. After we visit the God Emperor, I imagine Lord David will wish to find Sir Rush in a hurry. He's…" And the rest of her words are scattered in a murmur as Emmy leans over to whisper the rest in her ear. David leans forward in spite of himself, but he cannot hear a thing. Settling back, he fumes in embarrassment inwardly, _knowing_ it has something to do with how he has acted, considering the way both Irina and Emmy giggle.

Despite Irina's words, however, there is still an unsettling feeling in his stomach. After meeting with the God Emperor, he indeed plans to go after Rush, no matter what. He still cannot place trust in someone who is clearly hardened from future years. No, David will _not_ take the risk.

_Rush_… _please stay safe._

Marina steps forward then, eyes narrowed in thought. "Irina told me about a… _future_ Rush appearing as well, and that his presence on the Remnant Tracker is of a multitude of Remnants. Did he and your counterpart travel here together?"

"I do not believe so." Pagus interjects. His features are weary in contemplation. "They appeared at different times, and I have no doubt that if they knew of each other's existence, then they would not have acted separately as they have been."

"Unless… they're against one another." John shakes his head as he contributes to the discussion. "But—it's unlikely, isn't it? Still, I'm not surprised Rush is able to travel back in time—you remember the ability that you guys dubbed as Timeshift? Well, it's not the first time he's used it. Even when he was young, I remember him flitting around like a little ball of energy. Well, an _unnatural_ ball of energy— I didn't think it was just the sugar that made him go so fast."

Marina looks at him, dubiousness upon her expression. "You never told me of this, John."

He shrugs helplessly in response. "Sorry, love. I… thought it best to keep it quiet."

"When I saw Rush's counterpart upon the Holy Plain, there were symbols upon his face, running all over his body, I believe." David says, and they turn to him. "They were glowing a light green, and his eyes were different as well. Similar to when he uses the Talisman. If he is able to utilize a far more powerful version of Timeshift, then it's likely he's awakened."

Irina's eyes are large with worry. "And… I'm not sure if you saw it, Mr. David, but he also wore clothes the same as the Conqueror. And you remember what Rush said about... uh, Rush, right?"

"Of course." David murmurs, and he shakes his head. The knot in his chest is tightening with each passing moment, and he feels the need to scream out the coalesced stress in him. How can he forget such an important detail? It's clear, then, that… "The future Rush is on the Conqueror's side. I'm certain that it's because he's awakened that that's happened. I can't think of anything else, save for him being enthralled." There is an inward wince at the reminder that his counterpart had enthralled the Rush of this time. And then—a darker thought brewed. Was it possible that he, in the future, has somehow enthralled his Rush? But to what purpose would having Rush side against them be in the long run?

"Maybe your guys' future selves really are fighting with each other. It doesn't make sense that Rush came along with David if he's only gonna haul his past self away." John says quietly.

Emmy frowns, head tilting partially to the side. "Then… how did Lord David of the future come to the past if not without Rush's help?"

"There are… other ways to mess with time and space." Marina says suddenly. "Magick, for instance. You've seen Wagram use it—it's powerful, but it isn't something available for everyone. I imagine Lord David must have found a way to learn and utilize it, and judging by the successful time leap he's advanced in it amazingly far within the short span of time he's known it. Sometimes, it takes _decades_ for one to master the arts of Magick. Was the man you saw old?" Marina directs the question to David and his Generals and the Duke shakes his head. "Amazing." She murmurs, gaze lingering on him before looking away once more. She doesn't elaborate.

He doesn't know entirely what to think of that, but he supposes that if he has displayed a natural talent for something as powerful as Magick, then he should look into it. Never before has he even _heard_ of such a thing, except for when Wagram has utilized it. If it gained him the upper hand on their enemies, then he has no problem researching and ultimately practising it.

"We shall discuss this when I get back." David says abruptly, for he is cognizant of the setting sun beyond the entrance. The sooner he has a talk with the God Emperor, the sooner he can start his search for Rush. He looks to Irina, and there's a hesitant query upon his tongue. "Are you able to…?"

Immediately getting what he is asking, Irina nods immediately and her hands hover before her chest in a nervous mannerism. "Of course, Mr. David! I wouldn't want to miss this chance of meeting the God Emperor."

There is a grateful smile upon his face. "Thank you." He looks to his Generals, and they stand at attention instantaneously. "Make sure to rest up for the trip and prepare provisions." If he can remember the route correctly, then it will not be easy. "We will leave at dawn for Mount Vackel!"

"Yes, My Lord!"


	9. ocht

David, in hindsight, knows that the journey to Undelwalt will not be a peaceful one. On one hand, he'll be out of his mind with worry for Rush's safety. On the other hand...

Well.

"It's too cute!" Emmy is exclaiming now and David can hazard a guess as to what she's talking about given the glances towards himself and the whispered exchanges between her and Irina. Even now, more rapid conversation is taking place and David honestly had no idea that she can... be this spastic.

He's wholly aware of Torgal, who seems to be casting fuming-at least, in a Sovani-like way-glances back at the two girls and he imagines that the leader of the Four Generals is about to burst and tell them off for being 'immature on such an important quest'.

Or has he already done that?

David doesn't know. Perhaps he really is far too preoccupied with his own thoughts, despite the decision to travel with less people so as to incur less attention (plus, with the people that Rush has decided to hire, they'll inquire about his absence and the issue of the God Emperor may be touchy to some; David will like to get through the week without angering the single most important person in the world and he imagines the knowledge of time travel will be incredibly discomforting to some). Still, he finds the banter amusing as well as distracting.

"He will be fine, Lord David." Pagus is reaching up to pat his back reassuringly, and David almost starts in surprise because he hasn't noticed his approach, something that is sorely uncharacteristic of him and he nods at the words, grateful for the attempt at reassurance. "We have all known you since you were an infant, and we all have faith in your decisions. Though your counterpart is currently questionable, there is no doubt in my mind that there are only the best intentions in mind for those he cares about."

David stays silent for a moment longer. The Four Generals know him better than he knows himself at times, though there is still an ill feeling in his stomach that something is wrong. That something is wrong with _himself_, his _future_, and his Generals _may_ have faith, but what is faith in the face of absolute tragedy? When he looked at his older self, he saw a broken man: one that has lost everyone he has ever loved, one that has pushed _forward_ despite that burden, one that has been ultimately _crushed_ by it.

And a broken thing is utterly _unpredictable_.

"Thank you, Pagus." He replies quietly, and the elder's eyes slide to him before nodding. Nothing more needs to be said, though David cannot help but feel like the old qsiti has caught onto the disparaging response, even if it is unvoiced.

He'll have to reassure him later on, he imagines. Right now, he cannot muster the energy to smile and only looks forward to a blissful sleep (if it is _generous_ enough to come for him amidst all this worry and _stress_). However, it seems there is still a few hours left of sunlight and he doesn't wish to delay the journey further by requesting they stop and set up camp already. Delaying meant leaving Rush in _his_ hands and David is sorely _anxious_ at such an idea; perhaps a couple more hours and _then_ he will consider stopping for the night. That way, they will at least clear Mount Vackel, enough so to clear the iciness of the mountain that will interrupt their rest—

( **_care_**_ful Dave_ )

He jerks to a stop.

Around him, the others have as well though for an entirely _different_ reason. His vision focusing, he recovers quickly from the shock of hearing… that _voice_ before being bludgeoned by the sight of a large Spiritlord, seemingly. However, he figures it's a rare monster judging by the size and the colour of it's plumage; he's not witnessed it before, and he looks to Pagus for his wisdom.

Noticing his unvoiced inquiry, Pagus answers with a bit of awe in his voice. "That is Heaven's Lord, if I remember correctly. A formidable foe, though it's defeat would be easier to bring about if we had more soldiers."

It looks formidable indeed, perched majestically at the end of the path and coincidentally in their way among hardened ivory. If Rush... if Rush were here, they could have avoided the monster with the use of his Timeshift ability. Yet, that also meant there's the possibility of fighting it as well since with Rush, the entirety of their unions will have came. As it is, David supposes they will have to make-do with what they have. A few well-aimed shots with Ex Machina, and Mystic Arts shredding through the large creature to weaken it whilst simultaneously covering Blocter as he lands heavy blows upon it along with Emmy and Torgal should be enough. Irina will be there to keep them alive but far back enough so as to not get caught within any long-range attacks and even Curse (which David expects: the avian family does not stray far from abilities that weaken the party as a _whole_).

Risky. On an open terrain like this, their group will be detected instantly even if they try to attack from afar and Heaven's Lord will meet them halfway with ease. Perhaps the use of Arcana to start them off will be enough then they can lapse into battle formation.

"Lord David?" Torgal voices his query, and David feels all eyes on him. "Your orders?"

Normally, David defers to Rush. It is _him_ that brought them together after all, even if they tend to co-lead. And the Duke hasn't minded this; it's refreshing to see others lead instead, and Rush has proven to be excellent at it even if he has requested David's advice at times.

However, his presence is sorely _absent_ and so David naturally takes up leadership. "Pagus and Torgal with me for now; we'll use Arcana on it as soon as it sees us or its within range. Once it's close enough, Emmy, Torgal and Blocter will engage it with Combat Arts and myself and Pagus will attack with Mystic from afar as well as keep up health. Irina, back us up with supportive and Recovery Arts if we're injured, but otherwise stand by."

They nod in unison at his commands, and seeing that there seems to be no problem with his current plan, he adds on for good measure: "I must also caution you all—not only are we low on numbers but we're up against a powerful enemy. If at all any of you find a window of opportunity, distract the beast long enough for the rest of us to escape, but _only_ if you yourself can escape afterwards. I would like all of us to reach Undelwalt alive without suffering the consequences of my own folly." For he should have taken a few more soldiers along with him; he'd been worried about Athlum, leaving her basically defenseless but Emmy has assured him that the others will take care of it.

Though, when it comes down to it, it may be _them_ that needs to be taken care of.

Torgal looks as if he's about to say something, but David quickly carries on. He doesn't wish to listen to what will likely be a lecture. "We will win. I will make sure of it." He does not doubt their resolve and their courage, but they have to see he is confident, so as to secure their overall morale. Stepping forward now, he looks towards the beast waiting upon the horizon and draws his sword.

"With me, men!"

Some call the now Duke of Athlum _fearsome_ on the battlefield. He's heard whispers and felt the wary stares of awe and utter _respect_, murmurs of his legendary Mystic skills and talent in the forbidden Arcana. Or perhaps it isn't so forbidden anymore, considering how others have utilized such terrifying power against them that the Duke had no choice but to reciprocate the damage. Still, it is something that makes other countries respect him, respect _Athlum_ and that is what he really aims for. Athlum needs to be seen in her own right, a city able to stand on her own and is powerful enough to be recognized without any sort of crutch.

Still, he would be nothing without his men. He would be nothing without his Generals and the power that the Gae Bolg gives him.

He'd especially be nothing without Rush by his side.

Without any of these individuals helping him to stand where he is now, an emissary for the Congress—as the acting _chairman_—to the God Emperor himself, Athlum would not have become independent. He would not have been given any of the opportunities he has taken if not for the people he has met, if not for one who has _literally_ fallen into his life.

Still, he supposes this is no time to be reminiscing about the past and whatnot—he will express his gratitude later. Right now, there are problems that need to be fixed, to be removed, and this Heaven's Lord is one of them.

As they advance, he hears both Pagus and Torgal come up beside him and at once the air is _crackling_ with Mystic power and he not only hears these other two but _feels_ them, their wavelengths synergizing to an exponential degree and an incandescent _light_ forms upon the atmosphere, terrifying and _huge_ and it looks to be growing and _growing_ and David feeds it, the _destruction_ the is sure to come upon the large avian before them and it in turn detects them all _immediately_, it's caws immediately shattered into disquiet at the Arcana that is now _enveloping_ the field and David is sure that this will do _significant damage_ and he sees Blocter and Emmy start to charge, perhaps to catch the beast in the aftermath of the Arcana and so he tries to finish the technique _quickly_ so as to join the battle himself-!

"Woah there, cowboy!"

Before David can even _register_ the words spoken, much less the _familiar_ tone, he feels a sudden force on his back and he's immediately tipping face-first into the snow at his feet with a surprised yell that is muffled instantaneously by a mouth-full of iciness. Immediately digging his forearms into the cold ground so as to free himself, he sputters out the offending environment and thinks he may have accidentally _swallowed_ some of it. Still, he _knows_ that the use of Arcana has been interrupted and, furious, he gets up, shaking his arms to get rid of the snow still clinging to him and aims a glare at the newcomer with a venomous response upon his tongue and—

It dies the moment his eyes fixate upon the other.

"_Wow_. Sorry, Dave! I didn't think you'd go that far forward, heh. I guess I'm still not used to my strength."

An _older_ Rush faces him now, hands up in surrender, still wearing those same clothes he's worn whilst facing him upon the Holy Plain but the strange markings are gone from his face, as well as the luminescent glow within his irises. No, they're a soft brown now, and his skin is as clear as, well, _David's_ Rush. The hood is off, and his hair is looking positively _tussled_ and there's boyish tilt to his head as he regards David and the Duke cannot help but feel slightly mortified at the inappropriate thoughts that are suddenly running through his mind. _Nothing_ at all to do with how… _attractive_ the man looks now, of course. He denies that completely, and instead rapidly tries to compose his features.

He's grateful when Rush turns because he admittedly fails in gaining back _any_ composure. Not entirely sure how to react right now, he looks back to see Emmy and Blocter looking confused back at him, teetering on the edge of running to their lord to see what's wrong or engaging with Heaven's Lord like they initially planned, the beast now… _not moving_…?

Or rather, it is _still_. David imagines that Rush has placed some precision of control over the great avian's own flow of time, and that is why it has stayed it's charge.

The display of power is admittedly _terrifying_, moreso than the Arcana David had been about to call upon. However, it brings up the question of why the other is even _here_ in the first place, and why he hasn't placed them all under that same power like the times his own Rush has witnessed.

"Irina." Rush is saying now, and David notes how smooth and mature his tone is. It is deeper than he remembers but he focuses on the careful ease in which the man pulls Irina into an embrace, tightly and securely. "I'm so glad you're alright."

"Rush...?" Irina seems shocked at the current events and she seems far too flabbergasted to return the embrace given. However, only a second passes before she finally raises both her arms— only to push him _away_, incredulity vividly etched upon her face.

"Do you mind telling me what's going on?!" Her stern tone is expected, but David still winces— though perhaps not as much as Rush does. Irina continues before the older counterpart of her brother can get a word in and he is left fidgeting. "And what's going on with your clothes?! Are you wearing the exact same thing the Conqueror is? Why did you tell us not to oppose him-?"

A shrill caw cuts through her words. Turning along with the others, David cannot _believe_ he's forgotten the immediate threat so easily. Seemingly not too bothered about the stillness in time it has experienced (if it remembers it at all), Heaven's Lord advances once more, though this time it's wings spread as it decides to take to the air this time. Apparently Rush getting told off is a good prerequisite for the time pausing to be interrupted.

Recovering quickly, David is about to snap out a few commands but Rush is suddenly there _beside_ him, his hand upon the Duke's shoulder and the words die in his throat.

"I got this, Dave. Don't you worry." There's an easygoing grin upon the older male's face, and David feels himself relax at the contact and reassurance, if only slightly. Still, he finds his gaze lingering on the mature features a moment longer, and he's sure it won't move anytime soon for he witnesses a sudden _glow_ consuming previously dark irises and they are incandescent as utter _power_ is felt rising. The air is _palpable_ with it, and for a moment David expects something flashy to happen, so to speak, but that expectation is disappointed as there's a sudden, sharp _wind_ that tosses his clothes, his hair, before the invisible _force_ reaches Heaven's Lord and it is eradicated in an _instant_.

The form vanquishing before his eyes with such _ease_ makes the Duke gape slightly. Rush's grin only gets wider as he cocks his head towards him, the glow fading from his eyes. "Impressive, huh?" He asks with smugness clear in his tone.

A bit frightening, David wants to correct but he has to admit it was impressive, in a way. He's overall glad that that particular technique had not been used on himself in the Holy Plain.

"Haven't seen you guys in a while! This is awesome!" And Rush is moving off once more, eagerly engaging with the Four Generals and they're positively shocked at the turn of events. David doesn't think he's seen Torgal's eyes grow that wide before.

Easily does Rush lapse into conversation with Blocter and tries to pull the others into it as well. David thinks it's a little ridiculous, considering the situation and he doesn't know whether or not to treat Rush as an enemy because of the clothes he's wearing and _especially_ what he said to this time's Rush before. Perhaps he's been mistaken...? If anything, the Rush before him now is as childlike as the one he's always known, despite however many years have passed for him.

And maybe David feels a tiny bit sore at the fact that Rush isn't paying more attention to him, but he banishes the thought immediately.

He feels more than _hears_ Irina come up beside him while he is attempting to listen in to Rush's voice and feeling... admittedly _charmed_ by it even if the man isn't talking directly to him. However, he immediately becomes more attuned to Irina now when he realizes that she's _shaking_, small tremors assaulting her body and he looks to her, a frown creasing his brows as he sees the discomfort in her features.

"Irina...? What's wrong?" He asks, though of course it is an idiotic question for the answer in right _there_ in _front_ of them, playfully dodging the soft punches by Blocter.

"His... the Remnant power I sensed from him in the Holy Plain was stronger than the power I'm feeling from him now." She informs him softly. "But… the multiple Remnant presences are still there. Inside him, I think."

David hums slightly in acknowledgement of her words. He doesn't know what to make of it because he hasn't a clue as to _what_ kind of Remnants may be lurking within this Rush. What exactly has happened in the future to prompt both him and himself travelling back in time? And why… are they separated? Perhaps the cause of that is the reason why Rush is somewhat avoiding him now?

Apparently, he needn't have fretted over that detail. Rush floats back over to David and Irina sheepishly, Blocter laughing an uproar whilst Torgal looks somewhat peeved and there's Emmy and Pagus, bearing slightly neutral expressions. He isn't too sure what they chatted about, but he imagines the Sovani must have ordered them back to David so that Rush can do some explaining. Some very much _needed_ explaining.

"Wow, sorry." Rush says as he approaches, a hand lingering at the back of his head. It is a mannerism that has apparently lived on, David notes, but decides to push his observations to the side for now. He has to focus, get answers out of Rush because he may very well know where his counterpart has taken the other's own counterpart (the details are beginning to become confusing within David's mind) and perhaps he can get answers about the Conqueror and… possibly what may happen in the future, if Rush will depart with such sensitive information. Perhaps it is sly of the Duke but he is never one to pass up the opportunity to gain a tactical advantage over his enemies, even if it is by unorthodox means such as timetravel.

"I kinda got carried away there, didn't I? It's just—it's been a _really_ long time since I've seen everyone so…" Rush carries himself in a confident way in his explanation, and David finds he doesn't doubt the words themselves. He's glad that the other's cheerful nature hasn't been squandered by whatever is happening in his own present, for it sounds bad considering how his own counterpart has been acting. Seeing that the Rush's words have died down, David steps forward then, head shifting the slightest bit to face him.

"Rush, as much as I would love for the pleasantries to continue, can you explain what's going on?" He's ever so composed in his query, eyes searching dark ones that seems to shadow at the serious veer of conversation.

"Well, since you're Dave." The answer is cheeky but his eyes don't hold the mirth. David finds himself flustered all the same, although he manages to hide it well enough. "Er… to be honest, I don't really know what's happening. I sorta do, but I don't at the same time." He bites his lip, crossing his arms now in contemplation. "I… you saw me back at the Holy Plain. I was _reaaaally_ out of it." He holds up his hands as if in mock surrender. "You see, there's these Remnants inside of me—_a lot_ of them. I'm pretty sure Irina can sense them all." He gives a wry smile to his younger sibling, but she doesn't answer. Carrying on as if he expects this, he looks towards David once more then does something that admittedly throws the young Duke aback. Rush approaches him rapidly—which is only two long steps, really—and David sees Torgal move in alarm at the sudden motion but David gives him a staying glance because he does _trust_ Rush. He doesn't doubt him at all.

When Rush actually grasps his hands and comfortably keeps them in his own, David has to stare. A lot.

He notes that Rush's hands are warm, calloused in nature. It's nice, feeling those fingers intertwine with his own, and he makes a mental note to try and do that more often. With this time's Rush, of course. The other male is _really_ close to him as well, _distractingly_ close and he feels his breaths coming in faster.

"And that was alla them saying that you guys shouldn't oppose the Conqueror." Rush is continuing on as if he doesn't think much of his actions, as if he doesn't notice the flustered look upon David's features and the gushing expressions present upon both Emmy's and Irina's faces. David himself has a sudden flashback to what his own Rush has told him, about the one before him now apparently stroking his face when he'd been sleeping and he feels even more heat rise in his face.

It'd been Rush all along. He doesn't really know what to think of that.

And so, he instead focuses on Rush's voice, the things he is telling him now, though it appears he's almost finished anyways. However, he doesn't seem to plan on letting go of him—and is he _stroking_ the exterior of his palm with the pad of his thumb?—anytime soon.

"That wasn't really me. I mean, it sorta _was_ but I still think I made the right choice in the end. Er, even though they're angry at me but hey, at least I don't wear my top like the Conqueror does, right? I don't have that much of an ego to show off my bare chest." He finishes with a shrug, eyes fixated upon David's hands as he continues his absent-minded ministrations. Admittedly, David is a little disappointed that Rush _doesn't _leave his uppermost garment undone but he drags himself back to the matter at hand rather than being distracted by fantasies of how Rush looks under those clothes.

Despite Rush's answer, the Duke finds himself still in the midst of confusion because the other's words have still been _vague_ and it isn't enough to go on. What choice is he talking about and who _exactly_ has Rush angered in doing so? However, some parts of it make sense. The Rush he knows wouldn't support the Conqueror's goals in any way. David's brows furrow, and he inspects the other further. Or at least _tries_ to whilst fighting the blush that is threatening to rise. They're incredibly close right now, after all, and though this isn't the first time it's happened, they hadn't exactly been _holding hands_. He hopes he has a somewhat composed expression, because Blocter has a shit-eating grin upon his face and David knows this'll come into conversation at some point in the future.

"How did all those Remnants gather inside you? Are they… stuck there?" He doesn't know if it's the right word, but Rush nods all the same.

"Mmhm, they're kinda like…" For a moment, David waits patiently for him to continue before realising that Rush himself has paused, eyes growing slightly distant as his gaze drifts to a spot over David's shoulder; awkwardly, the Duke wonders if he should try calling to him before there's a sudden _murmur_ escaping the other's lips, as if the man is talking to himself, and he feels _alarmed_ at such behaviour. It's almost like how his own Rush had been behaving when David found him early in the morning, just staring at the Tracking Remnant. He glances towards Irina and there's an overall worried expression upon youthful features. She catches David's gaze before nodding, and he leans forward slightly, squeezing the other's hands.

"Rush…?"

Almost immediately, the man responds, blinking and refocusing on David once more before grinning. The Duke is beginning to suspect it isn't an exactly _genuine_ expression, but the relief is overwhelming, all the same. "Sorry. They like to talk a lot." Rush doesn't elaborate, but David can guess. He has his own Remnant, after all.

"Rush?" Irina steps forward then, looking slightly uncomfortable as if she cannot entirely comprehend the situation but she's braving it all the same. "What are you doing here, then? Is there something happening in the future?"

"Uh…" Rush's eyes turn soft upon gazing at his sibling, but the question seems to take him aback. Or rather, he seems unsure of whether to answer that. "Well…" He's obviously stalling then, and David's eyes narrow.

"Rush." He interrupts, his voice short and demanding his attention. The other gives him a guilty look, but he continues nonetheless. He wants to get this out of the way, to confirm his rising suspicions. "Did you come here for my older counterpart? Is he the reason why—?"

He doesn't even get to finish, because Rush drops his hands suddenly as if they burn him.

There's a slight shift of his head, as if unable to believe what he's hearing and he steps back as if to try and distance himself. However, his eyes are still upon David and there is a pain there that is overwhelming _sharp_ and _palpable_ and the Duke suddenly wishes he can take his words back in an attempt to spare Rush from the sudden internal agony he has caused him.

"He's… _here_?!" The words are a choked whisper and Rush rapidly searches David's face, seemingly trying to find the slightest gap in the sincerity of his words and of course, he would not find one. "Is that why I'm not…?" A furtive glance is cast around once more, and the Duke suspects he is actually looking for his _younger_ counterpart. He's surprised the other hasn't questioned it until now, but he supposes Rush can _guess_ upon learning about David's older self's presence.

"Rush?" David slowly steps forward, reaching out for him like the other is a wounded animal. "What's happening? How can we help?" He finds he's on edge; whatever his own suspicious may be, he certainly did not expect Rush to be _this_ surprised at the information. Indeed, he seems to have come to this time for an entirely different reason than what David has thought.

Slowly now does Rush shake his head and he takes another step back. "No. No, don't worry about it." The way he says those words are fast-paced and strewn with tension. If anything, David has _every_ reason to worry but Rush is backing away a little more, hands raised as if to stop his approach. "Dave. Really." He says earnestly, his eyes pleading as he looks at him. "Just… just worry about the Conqueror. And Wagram. Or whoever you're facing now."

David opens his mouth to answer, to _insist_ upon knowing what the other knows because surely it'll help _them_ as _well_ in the long run (because the other mentions _Wagram_ and it is clear that he is far more involved in these conspiracies than David has thought and he files such information away to ponder upon _later_) but Rush is talking again, loudly and over anything he may choose to say.

"Irina, stay safe." He tells her, managing a grin, and looks around to the Generals. "It was good catching up with you all, but I gotta run again."

With the way Rush words it, it sounds as if they're finishing up a picnic and are planning to meet up sometime later but David knows this is _far_ less casual than how it may be interpreted. And perhaps he'll not be seeing this Rush in a _long_ time.

When David thinks the other will leave just like that, Rush approaches him once more, and there's a half-hearted grin on his face and when he steps close to the Duke once more, David realises how much taller Rush has grown. It's only a few inches, but David has to tilt his head up _very_ slightly to levelly meet his eyes. A touch comes at his cheek—it takes him a brief moment to realise the other's hand is lingering there and he feels heat rise in his neck because he doesn't know how to properly _react_ to this.

"Rush?" His voice is thankfully composed. His features do not seem to twitch either to reveal his flustered state, something he is also grateful for. Unfortunately, the other's next words easily _break_ such composure.

"I'd kiss you but I think my younger self would be a bit annoyed at me for stealing your lip virginity."

The words are said so _cheekily_ and David really has to _gape_ now at the utter audacity Rush has for stating this aloud to him, _in front of_ the others _especially_ and he has half a mind to whack him upon the arm. Rush, apparently, is as shameless as ever and instead leans forward to quickly press his lips against the cheek he'd been caressing earlier and David _feels_ the grin spread across his mouth before Rush leans further forward to breathe a few words into the shell of his ear.

"Catch you later, Dave." The hot air is enough to coax a shudder from David but he manages to squander the bodily reaction, admittedly… _slightly_ aroused from such contact but he reminds himself that this isn't exactly the right _place_ to feel these things.

There's a shimmer of viridian, and Rush is gone.

* * *

><p><strong>NA:** So i realise that i have yet to actually make an author's note here omg lkjalskfj this was originally posted on ao3 but i figured i might as well make this account live! /casually has three other ff accounts from like six years ago orz orz lkjsalkfj but ! i hope you guys are enjoying here and don't forget to leave a small review or something to lemme know how i'm doing! i'd really appreciate it! ; ^ ; either way, happy new years and i hope y'all had a great christmas!


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